"No words can describe the wonderful joy that
was shed abroad in my heart. I wept aloud with joy and love. The waves came over
me and over me, one after another, until I cried out, 'I shall die if these
waves continue to pass over me. Lord, I cannot bear any more."

-- Finney's description of his filling
with the Holy Spirit on the day of his conversion

"Revival is a new beginning of obedience
to God"

Biography

G. FREDERICK WRIGHT, D.D., LL.D.

Professor in Oberlin Theological Seminary,
OHIO

1891

PREFACE.

I COUNT myself fortunate in the subject of this
Memoir. The life of President Finney fell in times well adapted for the
development of the remarkable natural abilities with which he was endowed. He
was made for an active career, and abundant opportunities for action were
opened before him by Providence at every step. He came suddenly to the notice
of the Christian public, but his ardor never showed signs of abatement. His
success, though constant, seemed always to be a surprise to himself. While he
had his full share of conflict, and attained the full tale of years allotted
by the Psalmist, his spirit mellowed with age, and his end was peace. If the
story of his life and work fails either to interest or to instruct the reader,
the fault is certainly in the writer, and not in the subject he has undertaken
to present.

G. FREDERICK WRIGHT.

OBERLIN, OHIO, March 21, 1891.

CHARLES GRANDISON FINNEY

CHAPTER I.

CONVERSION AND THEOLOGICAL PREPARATION.

IN the public records of Warren, Litchfield
County, Connecticut, "Josiah Finney" appears as the name of one of
the earliest settlers, and we are told that the organization of the
Congregational Church of the town in 1756 was effected at his residence, and
that he purchased and gave to the ecclesiastical society the ground upon which
the first "meeting-house" was built. Josiah Finney's wife was Sarah
Curtiss, a sister of Major Eleazer Curtiss of Revolutionary fame. Their first
child, Sylvester, who was born March 15, 1759, became a soldier in the
Revolutionary army, and in 1779 married Rebecca Rice of Kent. The seventh
child of this couple, born in Warren, August 29, 1792, was made to reflect the
literary fashion of his time by receiving the baptismal name of "Charles
Grandison," after one of the characters of Richardson's creation.

Josiah Finney, the grandfather of Charles,
was, (as the genealogical tables pretty surely indicate) the grandson of John
Finney, second, who was born in Plymouth, Massachusetts, in 1638, and whose
father (John), together with his mother and brother Robert, was among the
early settlers of Plymouth. John Finney, second, the probable grandfather of
Josiah and great-great-grandfather of Charles G., married in 1664 Mary Rogers,
a granddaughter of Thomas Rogers, who came over in the Mayflower. Through his
mother, Rebecca Rice, Charles was connected with a large and prominent family
of that name appearing in the early records of New London and Norwich,
Connecticut. Through his grandmother, Sarah Curtiss, he was probably descended
in 1641 from Francis Curtiss of Plymouth, or perhaps from William Curtiss of
Roxbury, Massachusetts, a brother of the wife of John Eliot. The Curtiss
family was originally from Nasing, England. Thus it appears that, like so many
other prominent men of later times, the subject of our biography was descended
from some of the best families of the earliest New England emigration.

When Charles was about two years old, his
parents, following the prevalent tide of emigration, removed to the wilderness
of Central New York, and found a temporary resting-place for the family at
Brothertown, Oneida County, but soon sought a permanent home in Hanover, now
Kirkland, then a part Paris. Here they remained, amid the privations of
pioneer life common to those days, until Charles was sixteen years old. It was
the days of the stage-coach and post-horse. The Erie Canal with its marvelous
transformations had not even been projected. The country was covered with a
dense forest in which clearings were made by slow and painful effort. There
were but few churches and fewer ministers; so that Finney in his boyhood heard
very little preaching, and that mostly by uneducated and ignorant men, whose
mistakes in grammar so impressed themselves upon his mind that they were the
subjects of merriment to him to his dying day. Books likewise were few. Yet,
true to the New England instincts, this most advanced wave of emigration bore
with it the schoolhouse, and young Finney was a regular attendant upon the
summer and winter district schools, taught by persons who had received
creditable education in New England. About 1808 the family moved to Henderson,
Jefferson County, on the shore of Lake Ontario, not far from Sackett's Harbor.
Here for a portion of the time Charles was engaged in teaching a district
school, but there was no improvement in his religious opportunities.

Quite naturally he was led in due time to go
back for further education to his native town in Connecticut, where we find
him in 1812, attending the high school, or academy, of the place. When he
expressed a desire to take a college course, his teacher, though a graduate of
Yale College, opposed the plan, assuring him that at the rate of progress he
was making he could by private study pass over the whole curriculum in two
years. While at Warren, Finney came under the influence of the stated
ordinances of the church for the first time, and listened to the preaching of
Rev. Peter Starr, who was pastor there from 1771 to 1822. But the regulation
style of preaching in those days was not particularly attractive to the
aspiring youth, and he seems to have been unfavorably impressed by it.

In pursuance of the advice of his teacher to
content himself with going over the curriculum of the college course
privately, Finney arranged to go South to teach and carry on his studies; but
for two years taught school in New Jersey. Here there was no preaching, except
in the German language, and, as that was unintelligible to him, he was again
shut off from positive religious influences. After a four years' absence from
home, he returned for a visit, intending still to complete his plan of further
teaching and private study at the South. But in view of his mother's ill
health, he was led to remain within reach of her, and so began the study of
law in the office of Benjamin Wright, in the town of Adams, a few miles away;
there in due time he was admitted to the bar, and entered upon the work of his
profession.

The Presbyterian pastor in Adams was Rev.
George W. Gale, a young man who had recently graduated from Princeton, and who
was thoroughly imbued with the form of Calvinistic theology there taught.
During this period, Finney for the first time lived within reach of a regular
prayer-meeting, one being held in the church near his office. This he made it
his practice to attend as often as business permitted. He was also the leader
of the choir, and his influence over the young people was very marked, and,
from all accounts, very prejudicial to the church; for he was a most unsparing
critic of both the practice and the profession of its members. Mr. Gale had
many private but apparently fruitless discussions with Finney respecting the
truths of religion, but at last became so completely discouraged that, when
some one proposed in church meeting to make Finney a subject of prayer, Mr.
Gale remarked that it was of no use; that he did not believe that Finney would
ever be converted, since he had already sinned against so much light that his
heart was hopelessly hardened; adding, also, that the choir was so much under
Finney's influence that it was doubtful if they could be converted while their
leader remained in Adams.

Thus matters went on until the autumn of
1821, when Finney was twenty-nine years of age. Up to about this time he had
not owned a copy of the Bible. But the frequent quotation of the Mosaic
Institutes by his law authorities had led him recently to purchase one as a
work of reference, and while thus using it he had become deeply interested in
the volume. Under these combined influences he was becoming very restless, and
was led to feel that he needed a great change in his inward state to prepare
him for the happiness of heaven. According to his own account, also, he was
much perplexed at this time by the apparent failure of the church to obtain
answers to their prayers. Still, after a short struggle, he became fully
convinced that the Bible was indeed the true Word of God,(1)
and its solemn commands pressed upon his conscience with ever-increasing
weight.

Finney's conversion belongs to the same class
as that of the apostle Paul, in which the inward change of character is
necessarily connected with a complete transformation of the outward conduct.
The salient points of it can easily be given. Fully to interpret it, however,
requires a consideration of his whole subsequent career. The difficulty of
such an interpretation is also somewhat increased by the fact that, in the
Memoirs written by himself, Finney has accompanied his narrative by numerous
doctrinal disquisitions, in which those familiar with the controversies of the
time readily detect the result of subsequent years of reflection interjecting
their later theology in the narrative of early experience. While, however, it
is extremely improbable that the theological system defended in his later life
burst upon his mind at the outset in such complete form as his own narrative
would imply, it cannot be doubted that the deep struggles of mind through
which he was initiated into the Christian life exerted a marked influence not
only upon all his subsequent practical labors for the conversion of men, but
ultimately upon the formulation of his theological system. It is therefore
important to detail at considerable length the events connected with and
closely following his conversion.

The convictions of religious duty which had
been slowly ripening in Finney's mind for two or three years culminated in a
crisis of unusual violence. Being brought face to face with the question
whether he was willing to surrender all his worldly plans and submit his will
without reservation to Christ, he became more and more agitated, and, to
suppress his rising emotion, resorted to the favorite device of avoiding his
pastor and other religious people as much as possible. As a natural result, at
the end of two or three days he became extremely nervous, and was depressed
with the presentiment that he was soon to die, - which, in his present state
of mind, he felt, would surely involve the eternal loss of his soul. In the
midst of these forebodings he made various resolutions to serve God, and to
make himself fit in character for the kingdom of heaven. But for some reason
all these were ineffectual, and brought no peace to his mind.

From his own account it would seem that the
primary reason for this darkness and depression of feeling was that his
resolutions were superficial, and that he had not really humbled himself in
the presence of God, but was seeking a righteousness of his own, based upon
works, and not upon divine grace. The idea of trusting God for the forgiveness
of his sins had not yet dawned upon his mind, or at any rate not with such
clearness that he was brought to act upon the thought in the entire
self-surrender of his soul. But at this point the gospel scheme of salvation,
as a gift of God bestowed upon all believers through the atonement of Christ,
came before him with great clearness. In Finney's own opinion, this vision of
gospel truth was in a large degree the result of the direct operation of the
Holy Spirit upon his mind. But probably he would not deny that in its
essential elements the material of the truth had already filtered into his
mind through natural agencies. The main facts of the gospel, though in
unattractive form, had without doubt been brought within his survey by the
faithful pastors in Warren and in Adams, and perhaps even by those unlettered
itinerants to whom he had listened in earlier days; while. his own resistance
to the manifold claims of duty had wrought up to the highest degree within him
that sense of the need of divine grace which is the starting-point of all true
religious faith. Upon these elements of truth the illuminating Spirit now
descended, as in a lightning stroke, and helped him to see the broad and
reasonable basis upon which the Christian rests his hope of life and
immortality. In the busy street, and in the light of day, there came to him a
vision of Christ, transfixing him to the spot where he stood, and arresting
his whole train of worldly thought. For a considerable time he stood
motionless where the vision met him, until at last he yielded to the summons,
and resolved that he would accept Christ that day or "die in the
attempt."

Still it would appear that he had not yet
fully surrendered his pride and given up his self-righteousness; for the
severest struggle of all was yet before him. Instead of making an immediate
surrender to God, he had only resolved that he would surrender some time
during the day. To carry out this purpose of the future, he turned his back
upon his office, and sought the seclusion of a neighboring forest, which he
had been accustomed to frequent for pleasure and recreation. Although people
had often seen him wending his way toward this spot, so that there was really
nothing in this to excite inquiry, he was now strangely impressed with the
feeling that everybody was observing him, and that every one could divine the
object of his movements. This thought so touched his pride that, to use his
own words, he "skulked along under the fence," to keep out of sight,
and when he reached the woods went to the farthest extremity of them, so as to
avoid all possibility of being discovered. Here in a tangle of fallen trees,
which was made to serve as a closet, he began the proposed operation of giving
his heart to God.

Some will think it an instructive commentary
upon his later views of regeneration, in which he holds that sinners are bound
"to make to themselves new hearts," that now, at this crisis in his
own experience, Finney was, for the time, unable to carry out the resolutions
with which he entered the forest. When he opened his lips to pray, he found
that he "had nothing to say to God." Even his heart, he says,
refused to pray. Every rustling of the leaves attracted his attention, and
startled him with the apprehension that somebody had found him out, and was
coming to interrupt him.

If called upon, however, to explain the
depressing experience, he would doubtless have said that the real difficulty
at that time was that he had not completely humbled himself before God, and
surrendered his will. When, a little later, this was really done, the darkness
passed away. But an additional horror then came over him in view of the
apparent fact that he had broken his promise to God, since he had promised to
give Him his whole heart before he returned to his office. But he was still
without feeling, and without the formation of any effective resolution. With
overwhelming force, the apprehension was borne in upon his mind that he had
perhaps committed the unpardonable sin.

All this was necessary to bring him down to
the point of complete humility before God, and he came to see that the
feelings which had prompted him to be so careful in avoiding the presence of
his fellow-men arose from pride of heart, and that it was supremely wicked in
him to be ashamed to confess before men his sense of sin and need, and he
cried at the top of his voice that he would not leave the place in which he
had prostrated himself, though all the men on earth and all the devils in hell
should surround him. At this juncture, the passage of Scripture was suggested
to him, which runs: "Then shall ye go and pray unto me, and I will
hearken unto you. Then shall ye seek me and find me, when ye shall search for
me with all your heart." Finney confidently thought that he had never
read this passage. This is doubtless a mistake. But at any rate, at that
supreme moment of spiritual agony, he recognized in these words the voice of
God; and one of those visions of divine mercy which ever characterized his
later life, and gave such effectiveness to his preaching, burst upon his soul
in its resplendent glory. He found himself no longer trusting alone in the
efficacy of his own resolution, but in the supreme mercy of a Heavenly Father.
Under the impulse of this experience, his memory was so quickened that a long
list of promises from the Bible came thronging in upon his mind, and, to use
his own words, he "seized hold of them, appropriated them, and fastened
upon them with the grasp of a drowning man."

His lips were now unsealed, and he continued
some time in audible prayer. How long he was thus engaged, he was unable to
tell. Nor could he recall the exact moment at which he rose from his knees and
started to return to his office; but could only remember that, before he was
fairly aware of it, he was on his feet with a light heart, and was
"brushing through the leaves and bushes toward the open field." The
real crisis in his experience is doubtless found in the sentence which
involuntarily fell from his lips as he started on his return, "If I am
ever converted, I will preach the gospel." The question whether or not he
was converted did not at that time, however, arise for consideration.

On returning to the town, he found that the
whole forenoon had passed away. But he had no appetite for dinner, and,
instead of going to his boarding-house, went to his office, where in the quiet
of the noontide hour he took down his bass viol, and began to play and sing
some of the hymns with which in his impenitence he had so often led the
worship of the congregation. Every note brought tears to his eyes. And, after
making several ineffectual attempts to suppress his feelings, he put aside his
music, and devoted himself during the afternoon to readjusting the books and
furniture of the office, having little conversation with any of the various
persons who came in.

In the evening he had the office to himself,
and, after building a fire in the open fireplace, he retired to the back room
to renew the devotions which in the earlier part of the day he had commenced
at his familiar haunt in the forest. Here it seemed to him that he had a
vision of the Lord, and that Christ met him face to face. So complete was the
illusion, that it was some time before it was dispelled. It seemed to him, he
says, that he saw Christ as he would see any other man, and that beneath his
benignant gaze he was melted to tears, and he wept aloud like a child. On
being aroused from this rapt vision, he returned to his seat by the fireplace
in the main room of the office, and as he sat down by the fire he received
what he describes as "a mighty baptism of the Holy Ghost." This was
an experience for which he was not looking, and of which he did not remember
ever to have heard before. It seemed to him as if there was a positive force
like electricity entering and penetrating his whole system. He "wept
aloud with joy and love," and, to use his own words, "literally
bellowed out the unutterable gushings" of his heart. So overwhelming were
these waves of feeling, that he cried out, "Lord, I cannot bear any more;
I shall die if these continue."

This train of experiences was interrupted late
in the evening by a visit from a member of the choir, who was alarmed at
Finney's loud weeping, and supposed that he was suffering from pain, but was
somewhat confused at Finney's reply that he was not in pain, but so happy that
he could not live.

Notwithstanding this exalted experience and
these transports of joy, Finney retired to his bed without definite assurance
in his own mind that his sins had been forgiven, or that he had been fully
accepted by God, and he passed a nearly sleepless night. But when he arose in
the morning and the sun was pouring its clear rays into his room, these became
to him an emblem of the brighter light that had arisen upon his soul, and
there was a repetition of the scene of the previous evening. He wept aloud for
joy, and in this second baptism received a gentle reproof for having doubted
the readiness of God to have mercy upon him. He now saw that the sweet relief
from condemnation, which had come to his mind at the supreme moment of
decision upon the previous forenoon, was closely connected with the divine act
of justification, and that the peace which he had since enjoyed was that which
God had provided for sinners through the gracious sufferings of Christ. He
felt that his sins were blotted out from God's book of remembrance, and that,
by a divine act, his guilt had been removed.

From this time on, a single purpose dominated
Finney's mind. He felt that God wanted him to preach the gospel, and that he
must begin immediately. He had been retained to attend a suit that morning as
attorney, but when his client came to remind him of the case, Finney said that
he had enlisted in the cause of Christ, that he had a retainer from the Lord
Jesus to plead his cause, and that some one else must attend to the suit. But
instead of seeking another lawyer, the man, who was a deacon of the church,
immediately settled his suit, and betook himself to prayer and more direct
labor for the salvation of men. Finney went out at once from his office to
converse upon religion with his friends and associates wherever he might meet
them. During the day, he spoke with many persons, nearly every one of whom
received lasting impressions, and entered at once upon an active Christian
life. At evening, without appointment, the people gathered by general consent
at the place where they usually met for prayer. The house was packed, but no
one seemed ready to open the meeting. Without waiting to be called upon,
Finney proceeded to tell them the story of his conversion. No sooner had he
closed his narrative than Rev. Mr. Gale arose and confessed that he had sinned
in limiting the power of God, and in discouraging the people from prayer. He,
like many others that day, among them a prominent lawyer, had said, when the
rumor of Finney's conversion became current, that it could not be true, that
Finney was simply trying to see what he could make Christian people believe.
But now all doubt was removed.

From this time on, daily meetings were held in
the church for many weeks, and Finney devoted himself with such success to
securing the conversion of the young people whose minds he had prejudiced
against religion, that in a short time but one of their number was left
unconverted. Soon after this he went to Henderson to visit his father and
mother, neither of whom had heretofore made profession of religion. They were
both converted, and a very powerful revival spread throughout the whole
community, while, with Adams as a centre, similar awakenings occurred in
nearly all the towns of the county.

During this period, Finney was in the habit
while in Adams, of going to the meeting-house early in the morning for a
protracted season of prayer. After a little he persuaded a considerable number
of church members, together with the pastor, to join in these early morning
devotions. Whenever they became remiss in attendance he would go around to
their houses and wake them up, and remind them of their privilege and their
duty. Nevertheless, attendance became less and less, until, upon one morning,
only Mr. Gale was found at his side. At this time another vision, similar in
many respects to that which marked his experience on the evening of the day of
his conversion, broke in upon his soul, and prostrated him on the ground. He
was overwhelmed with the thought that, while all nature was vocal with the
praises of God, man, the object of heaven's supremest love, was unmoved and
dumb. In connection with this thought a light seemed to surround him which
was, he says, like the brightness of the sun in every direction. . . . I
think," he goes on to say, "I knew something then, by actual
experience, of the light which prostrated Paul on his way to Damascus. It was
surely a light such as I could not have endured long." Upon this he broke
out into loud weeping, much to the astonishment of Mr. Gale, who had seen no
such light. But so deep were Finney's feelings, and so exalted his momentary
conceptions of truth, that words did not seem adequate to their expression,
and he made but brief reply to his pastor's inquiries as to the cause of his
tumultuous feeling. He simply continued to weep until the vision passed away,
when a great calm settled over his mind. This is related by Finney as a type
of frequent experiences through which he passed in the years immediately
following his conversion, - experiences so vivid and deep that he always
shrank from relating them to others.

During these early months of his Christian
life, Finney was in an almost constant attitude of devotion, and observed many
days of private fasting and prayer, when he would sequester himself entirely
from his fellows, and seek a closer communion with God. These days of fasting
and prayer were not all of them equally profitable. He soon learned that his
motives could not be purified, and his faith exalted, by mere
self-examination. But rather he was brought into darkness by this process, and
his feelings were made to subside. Only as he turned his thoughts towards
Christ and his Work were his affections kindled and his pious resolutions
strengthened. So deep was his longing after God that, if anything interrupted
his sense of the divine presence, he found that it was impossible to rest, or
to study, or to derive the least satisfaction from anything to which he was
attending. At all times he was impelled by an overwhelming impulse of feeling
to seek a reconciliation with God as an indispensable preparation for his
daily work.

Such, in brief, is the account given by Finney
of his conversion. One not familiar with his subsequent labors, and with the
final outcome of his life, can scarcely refrain from trembling at the apparent
hazard of the course upon which he was entering. To an unsympathetic observer,
the liability to self-deception seems so great that the whole experience would
be set down at the outset as of problematical value; and certainly, in view of
the frailties of human nature, a career with such a beginning is invested with
little less than tragic interest until the end is finally reached.

Though somewhat deficient at this time in the
preparatory education of the schools, Finney was the possessor of many
valuable qualifications which served an important purpose in his future
career. Nature had endowed him with a fine physical frame, exceptional grace
of movement, and a commanding appearance. He had a voice of rare clearness,
compass, and flexibility, and he was passionately fond of music. In Warren,
after a lapse of seventy-five years, the memory of his music classes is still
fresh in the minds of some who enjoyed his instruction. In his own old age he
was accustomed to enliven the gatherings at his house with solos, sung with
pleasing effect to the accompaniment of the piano. As a speaker he was
entirely without mannerism; his intonations and emphasis were perfect, and the
hearer never felt, till near the close, that he was listening to a powerful
sermon, but rather that he was being personally addressed with much
earnestness upon matters that were of great mutual concern.

During the years of his pioneer life. Finney
had also successfully secured the several manly acquirements needed to round
out the well-developed character. He was an expert horseman. riding with grace
and driving with skill. He was an accurate marksman, and hunting was a
favorite diversion when he was long past his middle life. While living upon
the shores of Lake Ontario he had become familiar with the management of
sailing vessels, an experience which gave great pertinency and force to the
illustrations from maritime life often introduced into his sermons. His taste
for literature was also strongly marked and of a high order. Shakespeare was a
favorite author, and even in his later years few amateurs could more
successfully take a part in reading the plays of the great dramatist. Besides
the limited education obtained during his four years' absence from home in
Connecticut and New Jersey, he now had obtained that discipline of mind and
that broad knowledge of general principles which preparation for the legal
profession imparts.

About as much mystery hangs over the first
year and a half of Finney's life subsequent to his conversion as that which
shrouds the corresponding period of the apostle Paul's renewed life. In his
memoirs, Finney speaks of visiting his parents, and of their conversion, and
of a revival in their neighborhood, also of revivals in the outlying districts
near Adams, as all occurring soon after. But what his relation to these
revivals was, and what was his attitude meanwhile towards the Presbytery,
cannot be ascertained. It was not till the 25th of June, 1823, that he was
formally taken under care of the Presbytery with reference to entering the
ministry.

On being advised by members of the Presbytery
to attend Princeton Theological Seminary, he declined to do so, for the reason
that he did not wish to be subjected to such influences as they had been under
during their education. Such was the earnestness and sincerity of his spirit,
however, that the Presbytery seemed to take no umbrage at his remark, but
appointed his pastor, Rev. Mr. Gale, and Rev. Mr. Boardman to superintend his
studies. From the first Finney's relation to both these advisers was frank as
well as cordial, and of the most interesting character. But he was not
inclined to accept some of the doctrines regarded as of great importance by
Mr. Gale. Hence, according to his own representations, his studies consisted
of little else than controversy, in which, as a natural result of his legal
habits of reasoning, he was led to demand a kind and degreee of proof for the
various doctrines defended by the young minister which the latter was scarcely
prepared to furnish. Mr. Gale attempted to persuade Finney of the truth of a
system of theology which involved the sinfulness of human nature at birth, and
of a theory of the atonement in which Christ was represented as making a
literal payment of the legal debt of the elect, and as securing their
forgiveness, after the manner of a commercial transaction, by setting down to
their credit his own righteousness. Naturally Mr. Gale experienced much
difficulty in defending this theory of the atonement from Finney's charges of
unreasonableness and absurdity. Being unable to present satisfactory reasons
to the inquiring mind of his pupil, Mr. Gale urged upon him the impropriety of
maintaining views in opposition to those of the learned theologians who, after
long thought and discussion, had elaborated this system as the most adequate
expression of Christian truth. But Finney did not find it easy to surrender
his judgment so completely to mere human authority.

As related by Finney in his memoirs, his
contentions with Mr. Gale accorded closely with those current at the time of
the disruption in 1837 between the Old School and New School parties in the
Presbyterian Church. According to Finney, however, he himself, at this stage
of his inquiries, was not familiar at all with the preliminary discussions
upon the New School side which led up to this division, since he had access to
no theological books whatever except those in Mr. Gale's library. But the
so-called governmental theory of the atonement, which he publicly defended
very soon after this, and used with such great power in controversy with the
Universalists, was to all appearance independently suggested to his mind as he
studied the Bible in the light of his experience and legal training. According
to his own account, the main outline of his subsequent theological system was
sketched in an effort to answer a Universalist minister who maintained that
the doctrine of universal salvation was a corollary to the doctrines of
Calvinism. The Universalists of that day magnified the atonement, and, having
proved from the Bible that its provisions were ample for the whole human race,
they contended that, as the debt of all mankind had been paid, the electing
love of God must include all men and secure their salvation.

Under stress of this line of argument as
urged by the Universalist minister in his parish, and on account of temporary
illness, Mr. Gale for the time turned over the public defense of the orthodox
doctrine of eternal punishment to Finney, who conducted it on the theory that
the atonement was indeed general in its provisions, but was designed simply to
satisfy "public justice"(2)
by honoring the law both in Christ's obedience and in his death; thus
rendering it safe for God to pardon sin, to pardon the sins of any man, and of
all men, who would repent and believe in Him."(3)
But the reality of its actual application to all men was shown to depend upon
the success of the means employed to secure their repentance and faith. With
this presentation Finney silenced the Universalist, and carried with him the
convictions of the whole community. The success of this effort surprised Mr.
Gale, but did not immediately convince him of the soundness of the positions
taken.

The vote for Finney's licensure was unanimous,
but it was pretty evident that the Presbytery was actuated more from general
considerations of policy, and from fear of being found fighting against God,
than from hearty personal approval of the candidate. On this occasion,
according to the prescribed custom, he presented to the Presbytery two written
sermons, which probably, with a single exception, were the only ones he ever
prepared. This exception occurred a few months later, when, at one of his
missionary stations, he was somewhat embarrassed by a report which got into
circulation to the effect that he did not have the necessary ability to
compose a creditably written sermon. Stung by these suspicions, he attempted
to demonstrate their injustice by preparing a sermon after the regulation
style. But, as the motives inducing him to take this course were not of the
most exalted nature, his carefully prepared effort was likely to prove an
ignominious failure in the delivery. He was quick to discern the danger,
however, and, taking time by the forelock, seized the notes that were impeding
his eloquence and flung them under the pulpit out of sight, and then launched
forth with his accustomed freedom in extemporaneous argument and exhortation.
Finney was ever after an ardent advocate of extemporaneous speaking.

Upon the Sabbath after his licensure, Finney
was invited by Mr. Gale to preach before his congregation in the regular
service. But his style was so diverse from that which had become fixed in the
custom of the times, that it was an occasion of much chagrin to his pastor and
teacher, and he told Finney that he should be ashamed to have him known as one
of his theological pupils. It is not strange that, at this, Finney "held
down his head and felt discouraged." In after years, Mr. Gale had
abundant occasion to retract this premature judgment. Eventually he himself
became an ardent advocate of the New School Calvinistic party among the
Presbyterians; and two or three years later, after having retired from
ministerial labor on account of ill health, he was instrumental in opening the
way for Finney to engage in the remarkable revivals which spread over Oneida
County, of which an account will be given in a subsequent chapter. Mr. Gale
afterwards devoted his strength to educational work, beginning his career in
this direction by establishing and bringing to a high degree of temporary
success the Oneida Institute, an educational enterprise which proved to be an
important forerunner of Oberlin. Still later, he removed to Illinois, and
perpetuated his name in the college town of Galesburg.

It is difficult to determine the extent of Mr.
Gale's influence upon Finney's views. Nor have we been able to ascertain just
what books Finney found in Mr. Gale's library. But, according to Finney's own
recollection in his declining years, there were few points of agreement, at
that time, between him and his pastor and teacher, and the Bible was his own
chief theological text-book. This, he says, he read by the hour upon his
knees, praying the Lord to help him in his understanding of it. In his later
preaching, and in his theological writings, there is clear evidence of the
influence of the younger Edwards and of Dr. N. W. Taylor. It certainly was not
till some time after this that he came into possession of the writings of the
elder Edwards. There need be no question, therefore, that at this period of
his development he went for light exclusively, as he says, to the "Bible,
and to the philosophy or workings of his own mind, as revealed in
consciousness," and especially in the marvelous experiences through which
he was passing at the time.

CHAPTER II.

EARLY REVIVAL LABORS.

SOON after he had been licensed by the
Presbytery, Finney was commissioned by the Female Missionary Society of the
Western District of New York to preach for three months in the northern part
of Jefferson County.(4)
During this time he divided his labors between Evans Mills and Antwerp, villas
about thirteen miles apart, spending the alternate Sabbaths at Antwerp. In
both of these towns, churches were already established, and for the first few
weeks Finney contented himself with preaching in the ordinary way upon the
Sabbaths, with a few extra meetings on intervening days.

At Evans Mills the Congregationalists had no
house of worship, but held union services with the Baptists in a large stone
school-building. Unusual audiences gathered upon the Sabbaths in which Finney
conducted the services, and much general interest was expressed in his
preaching.

The religious condition of Evans Mills, as
described by Finney in the letter just referred to, was such as is often found
in frontier towns. The church "were disheartened," he says,
"and had hung their harps upon the willows. The dear Zion of God was
robed in mourning and sat desolate as a widow. . . . Rebellion against the
blessed God, under almost every form, and in every shocking degree, stalked
abroad with unblushing front, in defiance of Almighty authority, and in the
heedless and impious rejection of proffered grace and mercy. The streets
resounded with impious oaths; the mouths of the multitude were filled with
cursing and bitterness, and it was but too obvious that destruction and misery
were in their ways. In view of this state of things, my soul was sick, and I
commenced my labors amongst them with plain dealing, and denounced the terrors
of the Almighty against them for their impious wickedness, and ruinous
rejection of the gospel of God's dear Son."

The adherents of the Congregational Church
were much encouraged by the signs of prosperity exhibited in the increased
attendance upon the preaching of their new minister. But Finney could not be
content with this, and hence with much emotion told them, at the close of one
of his Sabbath services, that he was not satisfied with the results of his
preaching; that he was convinced from appearances that they were not being
really benefited; and that he could not spend any more time with them except
they were going really to receive and act upon the gospel which he preached.
Then, after due explanation of what he meant, he informed them that whether he
remained there to preach any longer depended upon whether they were going to
become Christians and enlist in the service of the Saviour." With that
discernment of the state of the congregation for which he was ever after so
remarkable, Finney called at once, and in very specific terms, for an
expression of sentiment, asking those who would immediately "make their
peace with God" to stand up, adding that he should understand that those
who sat still expressed a determination to remain in their present attitude,
and not to accept Christ.

As he expected, not a person rose. Looking
around over the audience for a brief interval, he impressed upon them, in a
few additional words, the solemnity of the position they were in, and the
significance of refusing to act according to their convictions and of allowing
themselves to be publicly committed against the Saviour. This naturally roused
their anger, and the whole audience rose and started for the door. Finney
stopped speaking, and the audience of course halted and looked around. He took
the occasion to recall his previous statement, and to announce his willingness
to preach to them once more on the following night.

All left the house with the exception of a
Baptist deacon, who remained to let the preacher know that he believed the
proper course had been taken to bring the people face to face with their
short-comings. These two then arranged to spend the following day in fasting
and prayer, separately in the morning and together in the afternoon."
Meanwhile there was much indignation among the people at what they called the
unfair advantage Finney had taken of them. And, if one looks upon the
situation without knowing the man, he will indeed with good reason set the
transaction down as extremely rash and foolish. But the result so well
illustrates the real spirit and power of Finney that it sheds a flood of light
upon his subsequent career.

The key to much of Finney's success lay in the
fact that he possessed both great natural and great acquired abilities, of
which he himself was never fully conscious. He was always characterized by
such a frank and childlike spirit that criticism was disarmed in his presence.
He believed also that nothing could be effected in promoting a revival of
religion except through prayer, and by the special aid of the Spirit. His
first aim, therefore, was always to secure united prayer for the outpouring of
the Holy Spirit. The Rev. Mr. Cross, who, when a lad, was converted in the
meetings held in what was called Sodom, of which we shall presently speak, and
who for fifty years has been an influential pastor in that region, says he
well remembers the circumstances connected with Finney's first visit when
beginning a series of meetings in one of the neighboring towns. Young Cross
was at the house of the deacon of the church upon Finney's arrival. As soon as
he had taken off his overcoat, he asked what praying persons there were in the
neighborhood. He was informed that there were very few. Two or three women in
humble circumstances were mentioned, however, who were of recognized piety.
His instant reply was, "I must see them," and he immediately put on
his overcoat and set out to look them up. This will illustrate what was his
universal practice in subsequent years.

On the occasion of the crisis now under
consideration in the work at Evans Mills, Finney and the Baptist deacon
retired together to a neighboring grove, and spent the whole afternoon in
prayer, going directly from there to the place appointed for the evening
meeting, which they found packed with a deeply convicted and excited audience.
Finney preached for an hour and a half upon the blessedness of the righteous,
and upon the fearfulness of the award in store for the wicked; but he called
for no expression of feeling, and dismissed the congregation with the
announcement that he would preach again on the next evening.

This sermon, as was intended, greatly
increased the conviction of sin throughout the community. So deep was the
feeling, that Finney was sought for several times during the night to counsel
and pray with those who had been brought into distress of mind. But, as he was
not staying at his usual lodging-place, he could not be found. The following
day, however, he spent the whole time in visiting from house to house, finding
that the anger and indignation of the previous evening were almost everywhere
changed to deep conviction of sin. In the course of a few weeks almost the
entire community was converted, and the whole moral and religious character of
the place was changed. The lowest tavern of the village, which had been the
favorite resort of revelry and blasphemy, became, through the conversion of
the bartender himself, a regular place of assembly for prayer and praise, and
the surrounding neighborhoods caught the spirit and passed through a like
moral revolution.

During these first three months of Finney's
work under the auspices of the Female Missionary Society, the most of the time
intervening between the Sabbaths was spent at Evans Mills. But at Antwerp
hopeful conversions were also occurring from time to time, and in the letter
already quoted Finney expresses hope that "God designs to visit this
people with the outpouring of his Holy Spirit," modestly adding: that as
it is one object of your society to build up and strengthen feeble churches, -
to unite their strength in the establishing of the gospel among them, - this
object, I have strong hopes, will be effected at the two places where I have
principally labored."

On the 1st of July, 1824, the St. Lawrence
Presbytery convened at Evans Mills, and, among other business, considered the
propriety of ordaining Finney. One afternoon, while he was in attendance upon
the meeting where a large audience had assembled, the Presbytery, without any
premonition, called upon him to preach. Finney thinks this was from a desire
of some of the ministers to see what he could do on a moment's notice. But
more probably it was regarded by them as a part of their examination of him
with reference to his fitness to receive full ordination. At any rate the
invitation was thus unceremoniously given. Though Finney accepted the
invitation, he refused to go into the high box-pulpit with which this church,
like all others of that day, was provided. Instead, he stepped out into the
broad-aisle, and preached a powerful extemporaneous sermon from the text,
"Without holiness no man shall see the Lord." The effect upon the
audience is said to have been marked, but the ministers, in the line of their
supposed duty, annoyed Finney somewhat by criticising the style and manner of
his address, complaining that he was letting down the dignity of the pulpit;
that he condescended to talk to the people in a colloquial manner, like a
lawyer at the bar; that his exhortations were too vehement; that he spoke in
too strong terms of the hazard of life, and too severely blamed the people for
their sin. At the close of the sermon, one of the ministers patronizingly said
to Finney that, while he would not like to have him preach in his church, he
should be very glad, if it ever came in his way, to invite him to preach in
some of the schoolhouses in the out-districts of his parish. Nevertheless, the
Presbytery proceeded to the ordination services, which took place that evening
in the Methodist meeting-house, - Rev. A. W. Platt presiding, and Rev. J.
Clinton preaching the sermon. His commission by the Female Society seems to
have been renewed for another three months, during which he devoted the
greater part of his strength to the work at Antwerp.

Antwerp contained a small Presbyterian church,
but the religious people were few, as at Evans Mills, and were completely
overawed by the violent opposition of the irreligious element. One of the
elders, upon whom they depended to maintain the services, and who lived five
miles away, had for some time found it almost impossible to attend the regular
meetings of the church on account of the opposition of his neighbors. The
people of one of the intervening districts would even go to the extent of
taking the wheels off his carriage as he was passing upon the Sabbath.
Allusion has already been made to a neighborhood called "Sodom."
This was in the outskirts of Antwerp, and was so named because of its
resemblance in character to the Sodom of old; and the comparison was completed
by the residence in it of a solitary pious man, who was duly nicknamed Lot.
Very early in his work at Antwerp, Finney was invited to hold an afternoon
service in this neighborhood. Without knowing the circumstances, and so, of
course, without any premeditation, he chose the text, "Up, get you out of
this place; for the Lord will destroy this city," vividly describing the
condition of Sodom, and the urgency with which Lot was commanded to escape.
Naturally enough, the faces of the audience became gloomy, and the rough men
looked at each other with expressions of intense anger. When he had finished
the exposition of the narrative connected with the text, he appealed to them
with great earnestness and feeling to put away their sins, taking it for
granted, as he told them, that since, as he had been informed, they had never
had a religious meeting in the place, he could properly infer that they were a
very ungodly people. Instantly their anger was turned into deep conviction of
sin, and so intense did their solicitude for themselves become, that nearly
the whole congregation almost simultaneously fell upon their knees or
prostrate upon the floor, each one who was able to speak engaging in audible
prayer for himself. This of course brought the sermon to an end, as Finney
could no longer get the attention of the audience. The man who was known as
Lot was called upon to pray, but even his stentorian voice was unable to
attract the attention of the agonized people.

As Finney had an evening appointment in the
village, he could not linger with them long. But such time as he could, he
employed in giving instruction to various individuals within his reach. One
after another of these believed, became calm and quiet, and then began to pray
for others. On leaving, Finney asked the so-called Lot to take charge of the
meeting. Such was the interest that the audience could not be dismissed. Many
of the people remained all night, and in the morning those who had failed to
find peace were carried away to a private house, to make room for the school.
That this was not a mere outburst of temporary feeling is evident from the
subsequent history of the neighborhood. This deep conviction of sin was but a
just recognition of the real condition of the hearts of the people, and was,
with nearly all of them, the beginning of a new life which permanently
transformed their characters.

The revival in "Sodom" is an
illustration of a work that spread throughout all the neighborhoods
surrounding Antwerp, and resulted in the gathering of a strong church at the
centre of the town. When the six months of Finney's commission had expired, he
procured for them a pastor, who was settled, and the church has remained
prosperous to the present time.

We cannot understand the success of Finney's
labors in these towns without keeping in mind the intensity of his religious
convictions and the great tenderness of his heart. His first sermon in the
neighborhood where the elder resided who met with such opposition in going to
church, was from the text, "Ye generation of vipers, bow can ye escape
the damnation of hell?" The scene was similar to that in
"Sodom." Conviction fell upon the whole assembly; but the words of
rebuke were not those of one who loved denunciation: they were rather like the
faithful probing of the surgeon who knows full well the gravity of the case.
When his words of rebuke had accomplished their design, he then with tears set
forth the promises of Christ. Rev. Mr. Cross, who has already been mentioned
as one of the converts at the first meeting in "Sodom," describes
Finney's preaching at this time as essentially the same as that which he heard
thirty years later at Syracuse. As befitted the circumstances, the solemnity
of the speaker was intense, and entirely without affectation. As his piercing
blue eyes swept over the congregation, the great themes of the gospel were
held up and explained, and pressed upon the audience with overwhelming effect.
Thirty years later he was the same man, animated by the same overpowering
desire to lead men into a better life, but of course somewhat polished by his
long contact with city audiences.

It has been necessary to dwell thus minutely
upon these earliest labors of Finney, in order to understand his later career.
It is interesting also to observe, in passing, the extent to which, according
to his own account, his preaching was what would he called
"doctrinal." The larger part of every sermon was spent in expounding
some great truth of the Bible. At this time, as always, he felt called upon to
present in his preaching the whole body of the so-called Calvinistic system of
divinity; one of his most effective sermons in Antwerp being upon the doctrine
of election, in which he showed that it was a truth both of the Bible and of
reason; that to deny it was "to deny the very attributes of God; "
that it opposed no obstacles in the way of the non-elect; while it is the only
ground of hope that anybody will be saved.

At the end of his commission for the second
three months of labor in the two churches mentioned, Finney encouraged the
people at Evans Mills that he would settle with them for the year. He took
advantage of this prospect to obtain a few days' respite from his labor, and
fulfill his engagement to be married to Miss Lydia Andrews, a young lady of
the highest personal qualities, whose home was in Whitestown, Oneida County,
and who had been deeply interested in praying for Finney's conversion in the
days of his impenitence. The marriage took place in October, 1824, and after
an interval of two or three days, leaving his wife to make some additional
preparations for housekeeping, Finney went back to Evans Mills for the purpose
of obtaining conveyance for their household goods. It was his intention to
return for Mrs. Finney after spending one Sabbath at Evans Mills, but revival
interest was developing in so many places in the neighborhood that he was
prevailed upon to remain and preach from night to night until the week had
worn away. Such were the demands of the work, indeed, that his plans for
housekeeping had to be deferred, and with the full consent of his wife he
decided to put off sending for her until "God seemed to open the
way." The whole winter passed in these engrossing labors, and early
spring arrived before the way seemed clear for him to carry out the plans with
which he had left his wife in October. At the first interval of rest, and
before sleighing broke up, he set out with a horse and cutter upon his
pleasant errand. But as the road was slippery and the horse smooth-shod, and
Oneida County a hundred miles away, he was compelled to stop at the
neighboring town of Le Rayville to have the horse's shoes reset and sharpened.
It was about noon, and no sooner did the people of the place learn that Finney
was at the blacksmith shop than they began to crowd around him, and urge him
to preach in the schoolhouse at one o'clock. This he did in compliance with
their importunate desire. The interest at the meeting was so great that he
felt constrained to spend the night there, and made an appointment for the
evening. In the evening he made another appointment for the morning, and then
yet another for the following evening. So marked was the interest that he
could not feel warranted in leaving the place without doing all that he could
to foster it and bring it to its proper fruition. He consequently engaged
another person to proceed on the journey for Mrs. Finney, while he went on
preaching, from day to day and night to night, responding meanwhile as far as
possible to invitations to preach in other places.

It would be doing the keenest injustice to
Finney to attribute this long separation from his wife, so soon after their
marriage, to any indifference of feeling. It is to be taken purely as an index
of the strength of his devotion to the ministerial work to which he felt
himself called. For, throughout his life, he was passionately devoted to his
family, and was never separated from them except upon occasion of necessity,
and then with much self-sacrifice and solicitude.

About this time, Finney passed through an
experience which became characteristic of his later life whenever he was about
to enter upon untried fields of labor. While preaching at Antwerp there had
been much opposition to him in the neighboring town of Gouverneur; and now,
from some source, of which he could give no account except that it was by
direct revelation of God, during a season of prayer, he became impressed with
an irresistible conviction that there was to be a great revival in this
present centre of opposition to his work, and that he must go there to preach.
Not long after this he met one of the members of the church, and made known to
him his convictions, with the result of being regarded by his auditor as one
who was beside himself. Nevertheless, he charged the man both to assure the
people of Gouverneur that he was coming to visit them, and to urge them to
prepare "for the outpouring of the Lord's Spirit." Improbable as all
of this seemed at the time, it was speedily accomplished; for he very soon
went to the place, and witnessed there a repetition of scenes similar to those
already described.

At Gouverneur there came into greater
prominence than before the celebrated "Father Nash," a Presbyterian
clergyman somewhat advanced in life, who felt moved for some years afterwards
to accompany Finney for the purpose of sustaining him with his prayers. It
should have been mentioned that, in some of the places in which Finney had
already preached, Father Nash had been present a part of the time, and was
accustomed on such occasions to make out a list of persons and pray for them
one by one in secret. Later on, Father Nash became a marked subject of attack
from those who opposed the so-called "new measures" of Finney, and
much fault was found with him because of the loudness of his voice in prayer.
On account of this, so his detractors averred, it was impossible for him to
pray in secret, even though he shut the door of his closet or retired into the
depths of the forest, since "they could hear him pray half a mile
off." The sincerity and Christian spirit of the man, however, could not
be successfully challenged, and that the answers to his prayers were often
remarkable could not well be denied. But his present and subsequent devotion
was a late development. When Finney first met him, he had not advanced in his
experience beyond that cold and formal state of mind in which he could pray
before a great audience without shutting his eyes. A touching tribute was paid
to his memory in the "New York Evangelist" when he died, a few years
later, in which was divulged the fact that a large number of most
discriminating and pungent articles in that paper had been written by him. On
the occasion now spoken of, Father Nash preceded Finney at Gouverneur to
prepare the way for him.

A characteristic of Finney's preaching is well
illustrated by some events at Gouverneur. His uniform plan of discourse was
slowly and carefully to lay down and discuss the fundamental proposition upon
which action was to be based, so that whatever movement of feeling there was
should be well grounded in a perception of the truth. He always took pains to
understand the position occupied by those he was endeavoring to persuade, and
was careful not to proceed with his argument till he was sure he had found a
common ground of agreement respecting facts and principles. Thus the intense
feeling habitually following his preaching was the result of his exposition of
truth, and not of any general attempt to produce excitement.

At Gouverneur the progress of the revival was
checked, after a while, by an attempt of the Baptists in the place to
proselyte converts, and induce them to unite with the Baptist church. This so
diverted the attention that for six weeks, according to Finney, there was not
a single conversion, as all were discussing the subject of baptism. Finney
resolved to overcome the obstacle by a frank and open discussion of the
subject himself. Consequently he invited the people to come together upon
Wednesday afternoon, and bring Bibles and pencils with them to mark the
passages to which he should refer. At this meeting he went over all the
passages bearing on the mode of baptism, explaining how they were understood
by the Baptists and how by the Presbyterians. So fair was he to the Baptists,
that they had no complaint to make. On the next afternoon, all came together
in the same manner to study the teachings of the Bible as to the subject of
baptism. He began with the Abrahamic covenant, and went through with
everything in the Old Testament bearing on the relation of families and
children to that covenant. Then the passages in the New Testament were taken
up. Under his presentation, it is said, the "congregation was much moved.
. . . and the tears flowed very freely when he held up that covenant as still
the covenant which God makes with parents and their households." In these
tears some of the oldest and most confirmed of the Baptists were constrained
to join. The question of baptism ceased to be the subject of conversation, and
all parties united in promoting the revival, which at once began to spread
again with increasing power, and continued until a great majority of the
people in the town were converted.

The character of Father Nash's work is
illustrated by a single anecdote current concerning him at Gouverneur. He was
in the habit of rising at a very early hour and going to a grove, about fifty
rods away from the road, to begin the day in prayer alone. One morning his
voice in the distance was heard on the clear, still air by a bitter opponent
of the revival. He could not understand a word that was said in the prayer,
but he somehow knew what it was, and surmised that it was being offered for
him. The thought pierced his heart, and he found no relief till he had
acknowledged Christ.

From Gouverneur the work extended to the
neighboring town of De Kalb, where the ordinary course of events was
interrupted by a bitter feud between the Presbyterians and the Methodists,
growing out of unkind criticisms upon certain physical manifestations
connected with a previous revival, in which many Methodists had fallen under
"the power," as it was called, and had lain for a time in a state of
helpless prostration; the Presbyterians were accused of having opposed the
revival because of undue fear of this excitement. But Finney had not been
preaching long before one of the principal members of the Presbyterian church
fell helpless to the floor, in a manner precisely like that of the converts in
the former Methodist meetings, and during the series of meetings there were
several other similar cases. But, singularly enough, all those who now
"fell under the power" were Presbyterians, and the Methodists,
though equally interested in the revival, were none of them affected in that
manner. On the last afternoon that Finney spent at De Kalb, he was intending
to preach, but a prominent elder of the church, who had that very afternoon
passed through a most subduing religious experience, came forward to the
pulpit as Finney was reading the hymn, and, after embracing him, begged the
privilege of telling the people what joy had come to his soul on merely
humbling himself before God. The whole congregation was melted to tears.
Finney did not attempt to preach, but says that he "sat still and saw the
salvation of God." Conversions continued to occur in every part of the
congregation during the whole afternoon.

In commenting upon these revivals in Jefferson
and St. Lawrence counties, Finney lays great stress upon the efficiency given
to the other means of grace by the spirit of prayer which prevailed in
connection with all the meetings. It was not uncommon, he says, for the young
converts to spend whole nights praying for the conversion of the souls about
them. The deepest solemnity prevailed at all times, and there was the greatest
solicitude lest injury should be done by inconsiderate words and actions.
Private meetings for prayer took the place of social parties, and all were
prompted to spend much time in secret devotions. Finney himself bears
testimony to his own absolute dependence, at this as at all other times, upon
maintaining the spirit of prayer in his own heart. If he parted with this even
for an hour, he says, he lost for the time all his persuasive power over men.

Toward the close of this period, also, a
special burden came upon him, in his private devotions, with reference to the
work of the future. He had a strange presentiment, he tells us, that untried
fields were before him, and that unlooked-for difficulties would have to be
overcome. So intense were some of these experiences that he was alarmed lest
his physical system should break down; but faith lifted him at length above
all fear, until he felt an assurance that he was "soon to see a far more
powerful outpouring of the Spirit of God in all that new country." This,
like similar experiences in later life, proved to be the precursor of a great
and unexpected enlargement in the work immediately before him.

Up to this time, Finney's labors had attracted
local attention only, and he had no plans looking forward to any wider sphere
than was opening in the frontier towns of northern New York. So far, also, he
had not been the subject of serious criticism. He had relied upon the regular
methods of presenting the truth, and had uniformly worked with and through the
church. The main peculiarity of his manner was the urgency with which he
called upon men to respond to present obvious promptings of duty. As we have
seen, it was his habit to portray with great vividness those truths which
reveal the sinfulness of man, and to call upon men everywhere and always to
repent under their present light, and expect the fulfillment of all the divine
promises with reference to further light and help. The good results attending
his ministry could not be denied. So far, also, he had not marked out a way
for himself, but had followed in a line of evident providential preparation
and appointment.

Equally marked was the providence which now
transferred his labors from the northern to the central counties of New York.
In October, 1826, he went to Utica to attend the meeting of the synod. On
setting out to return to St. Lawrence County, he was met on the way by Rev.
Mr. Gale, whose health had broken down, and who was now residing on a farm in
the town of Western, Oneida County. Mr. Gale greeted Finney with great
cordiality, and persuaded him after much importunity to turn aside to his
house for a personal conference. They were just in time also for the Thursday
afternoon prayer-meeting. This the two attended together, and, as the people
had no minister in charge, Finney was urged to remain and preach on the
Sabbath. Finney relates that during the whole of Friday his mind was greatly
exercised, and that he went frequently alone to the church to engage in
prayer, "and had a mighty bold upon God." The church was crowded on
the Sabbath, and the interest was so marked that appointments were made in
schoolhouses in different parts of the town during the week. Almost
immediately there were reported here scenes similar to those already described
in the more northern counties of the State. From Western, which was a country
parish, the work spread in the direction of Rome, the shire town of Oneida
County, and soon there came from Rev. Moses Gillett, then pastor there, a
proposition to exchange upon the Sabbath. To this Finney consented with
reluctance, fearing that it might interrupt the work at Western. During the
Sabbath, however, it became evident that the interest was such as to make it
his duty to remain at Rome. An inquiry meeting was appointed for Monday
evening by the pastor, without any announcement of Finney's expected presence.
Mr. Gillett had stipulated privately, however, that Finney should be there to
aid him, as he himself was unaccustomed to the conduct of such a service. The
meeting was largely attended by the most intelligent and influential members
of the congregation. The feeling was so intense that there was danger of an
uncontrollable outburst, an occurrence which Finney was determined to avoid.
After addressing them, therefore, for a few minutes, in a quiet manner, and
praying, as he affirms, in a low and unimpassioned voice, that Christ would
interpose His blood to save them from their sins, he dismissed the meeting at
once, exhorting them to keep silent, and to restrain their expressions of
feeling. At this moment, however, one of the prominent young men of the place
was overcome by his feelings and fainted, and there seemed danger that the
whole company would faint in the same way. Fearing this, Finney ordered the
door to be opened wide, and requested the audience to retire immediately. Thus
all shrieking was avoided, but the sobbing and sighing of those who felt
convicted of their sins were almost universal, and could be heard till they
reached the street.

On the following morning, Mr. Gillett and
Finney were overwhelmed with messages asking them to visit families where one
or more members were under deep conviction of sin, and as they went from house
to house the people would follow them, and rush in unbidden and fill the
rooms, wherever they were. We found," says Finney, "a most
extraordinary state of things. Convictions were so deep and universal, that we
would sometimes go into a house, and find some in a kneeling posture, and some
prostrate on the floor." The diningroom of the principal hotel of the
town was offered for a meeting of inquiry at one o'clock. Notice of this
meeting was circulated after the hour of noon, and the room was crowded to
overflowing, and could not be dismissed till nearly night. The conviction of
sin was intense, and a great number were converted. Finney preached again in
the evening, and an inquiry meeting was appointed, on the morning of the
following day, in the court house, where there was a larger room. This also
was crowded, and nearly the whole of the day was spent in presenting the
promises and work of Christ to the convicted multitudes. He preached again
upon the next evening, and so great was the number interested that the inquiry
meeting of the following day was appointed to be in the church. On the
following evening, there was an appointment in a large schoolhouse in one of
the outlying districts, but it became evident that the intensity of feeling
was such that it would result in undesirable outbursts, and Finney dismissed
the meeting without preaching, - exhorting each one to go privately to his
room and consecrate himself to God in prayer. After this, for twenty nights in
succession and twice upon each Sabbath, Finney continued to preach at Rome,
and prayer and inquiry meetings were held each day.

The effect of this revival was pervasive and
permanent. In some of the outlying settlements almost all the people were
converted. For many months a sunrise prayer-meeting was maintained, and was
largely attended. Open immorality was banished from the community. "The
moral state of the people," according to Mr. Gillett, "was so
greatly changed that it did not seem like the same place."

When the work at Rome had been in progress
about a month, Finney was called to Utica to attend the funeral of a prominent
elder of Rev. Mr. Aiken's church. Aiken urged him to remain and give him
assistance, as there were signs of a revival in his congregation. An unusual
spirit of devotion was beginning to manifest itself among the people, one of
the principal women being so deeply burdened that she had remained for two
days and nights in almost incessant prayer, until her strength was exhausted,
and she could now have no peace unless some one was praying with her for the
conversion of her neighbors and friends. As soon as it was possible,
therefore, Finney transferred his preaching to Utica, where, as at Rome,
crowds gathered from night to night, and conversions multiplied on every side,
many of them most remarkable in their character. So great was the interest
that the principal hotel became a centre of religious influence, and many of
the passengers in the stages who stopped there for dinner or to spend the
night were converted before they could leave the town. Conversions were
numerous, also, in many places for a considerable distance around upon the
mere hearing of the progress of the work. After going to a manufacturing town
nearby to preach in a schoolhouse one evening, Finney was invited in the
morning to look through the factory. As he entered the building, the
operatives became so agitated that they burst into tears, and the owner of the
establishment, himself an unconverted man, ordered the mill to be stopped and
the largest room to be cleared, that the operatives might assemble in it for a
religious service. In the course of a few days nearly all were converted.

From Rome and Utica as centres Finney went out
and preached more or less in all the Presbyterian churches of the county. In
the report to the Presbytery the following summer, the number of converts was
estimated at about three thousand.

During the following summer, Finney was
invited to preach at Auburn, where the theological seminary had lately been
established. But during the winter there had begun to appear in various
quarters a pronounced and bitter opposition both to him personally and to the
revivals in which he was engaged. It will be in place in a subsequent chapter
to speak more fully of the character of this opposition. Its immediate result
upon Finney's own mind was to induce a brief period of despondency. At first,
he says, it seemed to him that he was to lose the sympathy of the whole
Christian world outside of the limited field where he was already personally
known, and that probably all the pulpits of the land would be closed against
him. A momentary darkness came over his mind. But without saying anything to
his friends concerning his feelings, he gave himself at once to prayer. While
praying, the Lord seemed to give him a vision of what was before him, and, as
he says, drew so near to him that his flesh literally trembled on his bones,
and he shook from head to foot, under a full sense of the presence of God. . .
. After a season of great humiliation before Him, there came a great lifting
up," and God assured him that He would be with him and uphold him.(5)
This led him into a state of perfect peace, in which he was able to keep
himself from any feeling of bitterness or distrust, and he spent no waking
hours over the matter afterwards.

The revival at Auburn, though hindered and
somewhat modified by the outside opposition just referred to, extended to all
the surrounding towns, and was in most respects as remarkable as that in any
of the other places in which Finney had been. The antagonism to him in Auburn,
however, was so violent that a large number of influential men who were
attendants upon the church of Dr. Lansing, whom Finney was assisting, withdrew
from the congregation. The most of these belonged to the unconverted class.
But they were men of good reputation, and their opposition went so far that
another Presbyterian church was founded, with them as chief supporters. But
such was the genuineness of Finney's character, and so great the real respect
felt for him, that these very persons, five or six years later, and while
still unconverted, united in urging Finney to come and preach to them. This
was soon after the remarkable revival of 1831 in Rochester, when Finney was on
his way from that place to Schenectady, where President Nott, of Union
College, had invited him to labor. But on reaching Auburn he was so ill and
exhausted by the journey that he stopped over a day with friends to rest. No
sooner, however, was it rumored that Finney was in town, than the deputation
referred to came to him with an urgent request that, overlooking their former
opposition to him, he would remain and preach to them for a while. In response
to this request, he preached for six weeks, during which time almost every one
of those who on the former occasion had opposed him so bitterly was converted.

During this first season of labor at Auburn,
in the summer of 1826, Finney was invited by Dr. N. S. S. Beman to come to
Troy to assist in revival efforts in that city. Dr. Beman was a man of marked
ability, who, like Finney, had turned away from flattering prospects in the
practice of law to preach the gospel. Though a native of Hampton, N. Y., he
had lived at the South, and through marriage there had become the owner of
slaves. Four years before this time he had come to the Presbyterian church in
Troy, and was already making himself felt throughout the whole Presbyterian
Church by his able discussions of the fundamental doctrines of their belief.
In 1825 he had published four sermons upon the atonement, which exerted a
marked influence in supporting and spreading the views of the New School
Calvinists. His power as an advocate on the floor of the General Assembly had
also much to do in strengthening and solidifying this party. The whole
remaining portion of his life was spent with the church at Troy.

At the time of which we are speaking, Beman
was in full sympathy with the revival spirit which had been so wonderfully
manifested in central New York, and consequently urged Finney to come to Troy
and assist him in a revival effort. This was in the early autumn of 1826, when
the opposition to Finney was taking on more and more formidable proportions.
Dr. Beman, however, instead of being daunted, was rather stimulated to greater
zeal by this attack, for he saw that the opposition was largely based upon
misapprehension, and upon loose rumors which had no good foundation. The
reports which had been sent throughout New England so grossly exaggerated the
irregularities and infelicities attending the revivals at Western, Utica,
Rome, and Auburn that Dr. Asahel Nettleton, now getting somewhat advanced in
years, and whose career as a revivalist had been most remarkable, was greatly
troubled by them, as was also Dr. Lyman Beecher, then in the height of his
career in Boston. To stem the tide of what was supposed to be an ill-regulated
and harmful excitement, Dr. Nettleton had been called at this time to assist
in revival meetings at Albany. Whether Dr. Beman had a definite design in
securing Finney's assistance at Troy at the same time is not certain. But
whatever were the intentions of men, these two distinguished revivalists were
now laboring in prominent adjoining fields. Finney had a profound reverence
for Nettleton, and made haste to call upon him in Albany. At that time the two
were not known to disagree in their doctrinal views, and Finney says that
Nettleton did not then make any criticism of his mode of conducting revivals.
But for some reason he was unwilling to have Finney attend the meeting at
which he was to preach that evening. Hence Finney returned to Troy, and did
not see Nettleton again until the assembling of the celebrated convention at
New Lebanon the following summer, of which we shall speak presently.

The work at Troy was interrupted to some
extent by a vexatious ecclesiastical trial to which Dr. Beman was subjected.
Charges were preferred against him by certain disaffected members of his
church, and the Presbytery was assembled to investigate both them and the
revival methods which Dr. Beman had come fully to indorse and advocate. No
charge of heresy or immorality was brought against him, but the specifications
related mostly to infelicities of conduct connected with and growing out of
the urgency used in trying to persuade men to consider their lost condition
and accept the gospel. Dr. Beman's domestic life also was not the most happy,
his wife being a notorious vixen; and among the charges against him was that,
when his original call to Troy was pending, he did not unfold to his future
parish the uncomfortable side of his wife's character. This perplexing trial,
as we have said, was thrust right into the midst of the revival; and Dr. Beman
was even charged with having introduced Finney and his revival methods for the
sake of a diversion, and with the express purpose of silencing opposition to
himself. The sessions of the Presbytery were long and tedious, but resulted in
the complete acquittal of Beman.

Meanwhile Finney had been left to labor alone
with the church in the midst of these disturbing forces. The misapprehensions
of Nettleton and Beecher added also to the adverse influences. They thought
they were doing God service in trying to keep Finney's influence from
extending any farther east than the Hudson, and in this they represented the
pretty general sentiment of New England pastors. But none of these things
hindered the work in the end, and the revival in Troy was very extensive and
powerful.

From Troy Finney went by invitation to the
country village of New Lebanon, about twenty miles to the east, bordering the
Massachusetts line, and on the main road from Albany to Springfield and
Boston. Here he preached for some months, away from the distracting
controversies that had disturbed him at Troy. The revival attending his
preaching was similar in most respects to those in central New York. Towards
the close of his labors in this place, the opposition to his methods led to
the assembling of the celebrated New Lebanon Convention, which we must now
pause to consider in all its bearings.

CHAPTER III.

THE NEW LEBANON CONVENTION.

IN the narrative thus far, several references
have been made to the opposition which Finney met in central New York, and to
the general suspicion of his methods and work which prevailed beyond his
immediate field of labor. All this culminated in a convention of
representative ministers which assembled at New Lebanon, N. Y., in July, 1827.
To understand the outcome of this convention, it is necessary to consider more
in detail the actual characteristics of Finney and his work, as well as the
nature and source of the criticisms to which he was subjected.

So long as Finney's labors were limited to
Jefferson and St. Lawrence counties, New York, they met with no concerted
criticism. The towns in which he labored were so manifestly transformed by his
preaching that all local opposition was turned to admiration and praise. Even
his personality, strong as it was, did not impress the public so much as did
the wonderful spiritual results of the work. Indeed, the reports of those
revivals which were sent to Eastern papers made no mention of Finney whatever.
There were reports of the revival in Gouverneur in the "Puritan Recorder
and Telegraph," of Boston, on July 29, 1825, and again in September, as
also of the revival at De Kalb, but Finney's name does not occur in them.
Again, in the report of the Presbytery, as found in the same paper for
February 24, 1826, the revivals in Rome and Western are mentioned, but
Finney's name is conspicuous for its absence. It is significant also that
these revivals are spoken of as characterized "by no instance of the use
of artifice to excite mere human feeling, or to inflame the passions. . . .
The word has been generally presented," it says, "in plain and
pointed language. Boisterous speaking and loud declamation have been
studiously avoided." On February 3d, a correspondent in the same paper,
referring to the revival at Rome, says that it "exceeds anything of the
kind of which I have ever heard, except the day of Pentecost. . . . Every
store has been converted into a house of prayer." On the 17th of March
following, the same correspondent writes that all the professional men in Rome
but one or two have been converted, and on the 31st he adds that nearly two
hundred have united with the church. But it is not until the 21st of April
that Finney is referred to, when, in describing the progress of the work, the
correspondent says: "A Mr. Finney came to help the pastor. . . . After he
came, the Spirit of God was shed down with such power that nothing seemed able
to resist it. . . . The revival is remarkable for its solemnity and deep
heart-searching."

The next reference we find to Finney is in a
letter from a young lady from Connecticut, who was at Utica during the
progress of the revival in that city, and who wrote on June 4th: "Such a
revival of religion I have never before seen, and all has evidently been in
answer to the fervent, persevering prayer of faith. . . . In every village
around us God is pouring out his Spirit. A powerful work of grace has just
commenced at Clinton, under the ministry of Mr. Finney."

To Finney's work in Utica, Thomas W. Seward,
Esq., in an address upon the history of the city, refers in the following
language: -

The spring of the year 1826 was signalized, in
the history of the First Presbyterian Church at Utica, by the advent of Rev.
Charles G. Finney, then in the dawn of his career as a revivalist. It was in
Rome that his remarkable career commenced, and his intellectual force
attracted many citizens who would not have listened to a less gifted expounder
of the divine law. His exposition of that law was original and bold. Its novel
character and its extraordinary fruits soon became the universal themes either
of admiration or criticism. For months the revival eclipsed all other
interests, and in no other season of religious inquiry was a whole community
known to have been so entirely absorbed in the great pursuit. Mr. Finney's
treatment of religious quietude was as merciless as his dealings with the
wicked conscience, and in the religious world he inaugurated a brief reign of
terror. His stern methods were oftentimes as necessary as they were wholesome;
but it was a singular fact, that among those whose hearts most failed them for
fear were found many who had adorned years of religious profession by lives
unspotted from the world.

The scenes in the crowded church [First
Utica] on these occasions were solemn beyond description. No unworthy
accessories to heighten the interest or deepen the impression were ever
employed. Beyond some unaffected yet striking peculiarities of voice and
manner in the speaker, there was nothing to attract curiosity, or offend even
the most fastidious or carping sense of propriety. It is an inadequate tribute
of praise to say of his preaching that, whether it was distinguished most for
intellectual subtlety, strong denunciation of sin, or fearful portrayal of the
wrath to come, it had its reward in uncounted accessions to the Christian
ranks and renewed vigor of religious life. As a pulpit orator his place among
the foremost of his time was long ago assured.(6)

Reference has already been made to the
testimony of Rev. Mr. Cross, one of Finney's converts at Antwerp, who says
that Finney's style of preaching in the revival there was dignified, his
manners urbane, and his spirit childlike, and that rarely were any persons
repelled by his remarks to them. If a work is to be judged by its fruits, it
is sufficient to note that the transforming effect of these earlier revivals
was for a long time clearly discernible in the places where they occurred. Six
years after the revival at Gouverneur, Mr. Cross resided for some time in the
place, and found it so deeply penetrated by religious feeling that it was
impossible to organize a dancing party, and it was unprofitable to have a
circus.

Rev. P. H. Fowler, D.D., the historian of the
Synod of central New York, who was by no means in full agreement with Finney
in his doctrinal views, is still constrained to speak in the highest terms of
Finney's ability, piety, spirit, and success during this period. Even Finney's
exaggerated views of the errors of Calvinism, as Fowler regards them, are said
to have aided him in demolishing many prevalent fallacies. "His imperfect
education permitted rashness for the destruction inevitable in reforms."
Force is, indeed, said to have been his factor; and "breaking down,"
his process. Nevertheless, Fowler thinks this was evidently the natural
outgrowth of Finney's conceptions of wickedness and human obligation, and
while characterizing Finney's views as those of the extreme New School party,
he admits that they were for the most part "explanations of conceded
facts, and not denials of them," adding that "on the whole, and for
substance of doctrine, he preached the Calvinistic scheme." The same
writer also makes note of the fact that the Oneida Presbytery, in 1826, saw
nothing in Finney's doctrine of the prayer of faith essentially different from
that found in Edwards's sermon on the "Most High, a prayer-hearing
God," or in Calvin's works, or in Paul's prayer concerning "the
thorn in the flesh."

The report of the Oneida Presbytery covering
the year 1826 represents Finney's work in the most favorable light. According
to Rev. Moses Gillett, pastor at Rome, the great. instrument in the revival
had been prayer, and the truths preached were "such as had been generally
termed the doctrines of grace." The divine law had been highly exalted,
and its penalties forcibly presented, while the ability and duty of all men to
repent and exercise faith had been constantly affirmed. The plea often made,
that we cannot change our own heart, was met by the scriptural command,
"Make you a new heart and a new spirit." The duty of immediate
compliance with the will of God was urged everywhere. Up to this time, Finney
had not invited inquirers forward to the "anxious bench." Special
meetings of inquiry were held, however, which, though largely attended, were
characterized by no culpable irregularities. In these meetings the attendants
were conversed with individually, and were given such instruction as their
cases seemed to require; special care was taken not to protract the meetings
to undue length. It is important to notice, also, that Mr. Gillett speaks of
the converts as appearing "as well as, if not better than in former
revivals," and, instead of having to refer to dissensions among the
people, he says that "the church is blessed with peace and harmony."

Reporting upon the work in Utica, Rev. Mr.
Aiken refers to Finney's plain, pungent, and faithful preaching as attended
with wonderful success, and makes special mention of the fact that the
meetings were not characterized by noise and confusion, but, on the contrary,
by great solemnity and stillness. He says, however, that there had been noise,
and "no small stir about these things," but all this was made by the
enemies of the revivals. He reckons the converts in Utica as upwards of five
hundred, and says that after the lapse of eight months there had not been a
single case of apostasy among them. Mr. Aiken makes honorable mention of Rev.
Mr. Nash as Finney's assistant. For the sake of correcting misrepresentations,
he adds that the means employed were essentially the same as those used by
Whitefleld, Edwards, and Brainerd in the revivals in which they were engaged.
Among the doctrines prominently preached, he enumerates the authority of the
Bible, the enmity of the human heart towards God and its need of regeneration,
the love and sovereignty of God, and "justification by faith alone. These
truths were preached constantly, and immediate repentance urged." He
closes his report by saying that, though "some few individuals may have
differed as to measures," the large church, as a body, was most happily
and constantly united throughout the entire work. Rev. S. W. Brace, pastor of
the Second Church in Utica, is equally emphatic in his expressions of
satisfaction with the results of Finney's work in the city.

Rev. John Frost, of Whitesborough, reports
about three hundred conversions, with only one instance of backsliding. In
answer to current misrepresentations, he says that "peculiar care had
been taken to have all meetings closed at a seasonable hour," and that
"the whole strain of preaching had been far from what is usually
denominated 'declamatory' or 'oratorical.'" Within the bounds of the
Presbytery, fifteen hundred persons had united that year with Congregational
or Presbyterian churches, and Mr. Frost expresses himself as confident that
ministers and churches had exhibited as much wisdom and discretion as had been
exhibited in any revival of which he had had knowledge.

The committee add in a note that "the
labors of Rev. Mr. Finney have been pre-eminently blessed in promoting this
revival," and bear their testimony that "his Christian character
since he made a profession of religion has been irreproachable." They
further describe him as possessing "a discriminating and well-balanced
mind," as having "a good share of courage and decision," as
being naturally of a good temper, "frank and magnanimous in his
deportment, ardent and persevering in the performance of the duties of his
office," and as exhibiting "as much discretion and judgment as those
who may think him deficient in those qualities would do, did they possess his
zeal and activity;" adding that they believe him to be, "on the
whole, as well calculated to be extensively useful in promoting revivals as
any man of whom they have any knowledge."

Dr. Nevin, in his celebrated "Tract
for the Times on the Anxious Bench," printed fifteen or sixteen years
after these revivals, referring to the "great religious movement over
which Finney presided" at this time, says that "years of faithful
pastoral service on the part of a different class of ministers, working in a
wholly different style, have hardly yet sufficed to restore to something like
spiritual fruitfulness and beauty the field in northern New York over which
the system passed, as a wasting fire, in the fullness of its strength."(7)
But such is not the testimony of those best informed upon the subject. On the
contrary, Dr. Fowler, to whose work we have already referred, says of the
revivals that, so far from their leaving the region unfruitful and barren in
after years, so as to be worthy of being called a burnt district,
"central New York has since been the land of revival. The dews of heaven
and its copious showers have seemed to fall continuously upon it," so
that all the institutions of religion have flourished. According to the same
authority, also, Dr. Aiken wrote, in 1871, "After forty years I am
persuaded that it was the work of God;" and in 1856, Dr. Lansing bore
testimony that the influence of the revivals had continued to that time for
good in every respect.(8)

It is not surprising that so great a movement
presented special difficulties to the contemporary historian; for it was
necessarily connected with considerable incidental evil, and local observers
were not so well prepared to gauge the relative amount of this as is the
historian of a later date. In the case under review apprehensions were raised
as to the ultimate influence of the innovations made by Finney in the mode of
conducting revival meetings among the Presbyterian and Congregational
churches. There was doubt, also, as to the full significance of his doctrinal
innovations. Rev. William R. Weeks, pastor of the Congregational church at
Paris Hill, was specially prominent in criticism. Mr. Weeks was an ardent
defender of the theological scheme of Emmons, and at this stage of Finney's
course naturally failed to see the points of resemblance between his
fundamental ideas and those of the great New England leader. The points of
difference, however, were apparent enough, and were magnified beyond all
proper proportions. Mr. Weeks seems to have kept up a pretty busy
correspondence with the religious leaders of New England, besides maintaining
a good degree of activity in the publication of pamphlets and newspaper
articles. The grave apprehensions of so prominent and able a man naturally
made a considerable impression upon the outside world, with which Finney had
the misfortune of being unacquainted, while in his antecedent history there
was nothing of itself to command their favorable judgment.

As will have been perceived, many of the
scenes in connection with Finney's labors were extraordinary, and easily
invited misunderstanding; and though in general they were justified by the
attendant circumstances, and especially by the remarkable gifts and graces of
the preacher, these circumstances could not be fully understood except by
those who were on the ground, and it was a very easy matter for unfriendly
hands to caricature the man and his work, and thus create a false impression.
In addition to this hazard, there was also the liability of confusing in one
view the work of Finney and that of his weak imitators; and this was not
altogether unfair, since it is true that, to a certain extent, a leader in
social, religious, and doctrinal changes is responsible for the extravagances
and misunderstandings of his followers. Time alone can fully test the wisdom
of a reformer's action. His measures are not fully tested until they have gone
to seed in his disciples.

At the same time, while the evangelical party
was alarmed in view of the unmeasured forces which were being set at liberty
in the Presbyterian and Congregational churches, there was a still more bitter
opposition on the part of those belonging to unsympathetic communions, and on
the part of many irreligious people who were opposed to all revivals. An
instance of this has already been related in connection with Finney's labors
at Auburn, when a most influential portion of the community withdrew in a body
from the church where he was preaching, and united in the support of a new
Presbyterian church in which the preaching should be less pungent and the
exhortations less urgent. Yet, as we have related, these protestants united in
a body, a few years later, to urge Finney to stop and preach to them, and,
almost to a man, were converted under his preaching.

Among other things, Finney was charged
with advertising his meetings by sensational handbills, on one of which, it
was claimed, there was a fearful picture of the judgment day. It is needless
to say that this was entirely without foundation. About that time, and
somewhere in that neighborhood, an ill-balanced Methodist minister had
inserted such a picture in his own advertisement. That was all. It had no
connection, direct or indirect, with Finney. It was generally reported, also,
that it was the custom in Oneida County to whip children to make them
Christians. This report obtained wide circulation through the ill-guarded
remark of President Davis, of Hamilton College, who had in some letter
referred to an isolated case of such punishment, adding, however, the ominous
remark that he did not think there was any church "a majority of whose
members would not oppose it."(9)
On making inquiry, the Presbytery found that one misguided woman had been
guilty of such an unseemly act, but that she had immediately repented of it
and most grievously bemoaned it. There was no other basis for the report.

About this time, also, a much-quoted pamphlet
was issued by a prominent member of the Unitarian church of Trenton, New York,
entitled "A 'Bunker Hill' Contest, A. D. 1826, between the Holy Alliance
for the Establishment of Hierarchy and Ecclesiastical Dominion over the Human
Mind, on the one side; and the Asserters of Free Inquiry, Bible Religion,
Christian Freedom, and Civil Liberty, on the other. The Rev. Charles
Finney, 'Home Missionary' and High Priest of the Expeditions of the Alliance
in the Interior of New York. Head Quarters, County of Oneida."

In the letters that went thick and fast to the
leaders of religious thought in New England, as well as in the pamphlets and
newspaper articles published at the time, it was freely charged that Finney
was given to holding meetings at unseasonable hours; that he was harsh and
rude in his treatment of settled pastors who did not heartily support him;
that he encouraged the habit of praying for people by name in public
assemblies without their consent; that, as indispensable to the promotion of a
revival, he encouraged the practice of women praying in promiscuous
assemblies; and that he himself was irreverent in his prayers, and reckless in
the use of whatever means would produce immediate results.

As illustrating the extent to which the
personal sentiments and sympathies of the reporter affect his account of a
discourse, it is interesting to compare the report of one of Finney's sermons
as given by Mr. Brockway, a disaffected member of Dr. Beman's church in Troy,(10)
and a report of the same sermon as given by Professor Park, of Andover. Among
Mr. Brockway's complaints against Beman was that he had "introduced into
his pulpit the notorious Charles G. Finney, whose shocking blasphemies, novel
and repulsive sentiments, and theatrical and frantic gesticulations struck
horror into those who entertained any reverence either for religion or
decency." He complained, likewise, that Finney, in preaching on the text,
"One mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus" (1 Tim. ii.
5), "after describing the language of the redeemed in heaven as being
'Not unto us, but unto thy name be the glory,'" burst out with the
following objectionable language: "We shall see the Restorationists come
smoking and fuming out of hell to the gates of heaven, which being opened,
they will say, I Stand away, you old saints of God! We have paid our own debt!
We have a better right here than you! And you too, Jesus Christ, stand one
side! Get out of our way! No thanks to you, our being here: we came here on
our merits.' . . . Why, sinner, I tell you, if you could climb to heaven, you
would hurl God from his throne! Yes, hurl God from his throne! Oh, yes, if you
could but get there, you would cut God's throat! Yes, you would cut God's
throat!" By the time the report reached Dr. Nettleton, it was embellished
with the statement that Finney said that the sinner would climb to heaven
"on a streak of lightning" to hurl God from his throne.

The following is the account of substantially
the same discourse as written out for me by Professor Park, who heard the
sermon three or four years later at Andover: -

"The exercises at the Anniversary of
Andover Theological Seminary in the year 1831 were seriously interrupted by
the fact that Rev. Mr. Finney preached in the village church on the evenings
of Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, the evenings devoted to some of the main
exercises of the theological students in the Seminary Chapel. There was a
decided opposition to Mr. Finney among the professors and the students of the
Seminary, but his fame was so great that we were compelled to give up our
exercises on those evenings. We regarded it as certain that he would draw away
our auditors. Forty-two orations had been committed to memory by the class,
but, in consequence of Mr. Finney's sudden invasion, nearly half of them were
necessarily given up. On the last evening of our anniversary exercises, the
Rev. Justin Edwards, D.D., then a favorite preacher in New England, was to
deliver a discourse before, the alumni of the Seminary. Only thirty persons
assembled in our chapel to hear him. His expected auditors had gone down to
hear Mr. Finney at the village church. That church was thronged. In the midst
of the crowd were between two and three hundred men who were already, or were
soon to be, preachers of the gospel. In addressing this large and unique
multitude Mr. Finney was more highly excited than I had ever seen him before,
or have ever seen him since. His discourse was one which could never be
printed, and could not easily be forgotten. The eloquence of it cannot be
appreciated by those who did not hear it. His text was 1 Timothy ii. 5, 'One
mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.' His sermon was just one
hundred minutes long. It held the unremitting attention of his hearers, even
of those who had opposed his interference with our Seminary exercises. It
abounded with sterling argument and with startling transitions. It was too
earnest to be called theatrical, but in the best sense of the word it was
called dramatic. Some of his rhetorical utterances are indescribable. I will
allude to one of them, but I know that my allusion to it will give no adequate
idea of it.

"He was illustrating the folly of men who
expect to be saved on the ground of justice; who think that they may, perhaps,
be punished after death, but when they have endured all the penalty which they
deserve they will be admitted to heaven. He was appealing to the uniform
testimony of the Bible that the men who are saved at all are saved by grace,
they are pardoned, their heaven consists in glorifying the vicarious atonement
by which their sins were washed away. He was describing the jar which
the songs of the saints would receive if any intruder should claim that he had
already endured the penalty of the divine law. The tones of the preacher then
became sweet and musical as he repeated the words of the 'ten thousand times
ten thousand, and thousands of thousands; saying with a great voice, Worthy is
the Lamb that hath been slain to receive the power, and riches, and wisdom,
and might, and honor, and glory, and blessing.' No sooner had he uttered the
word 'blessing' than he started back, turned his face from the mass of the
audience before him, fixed his glaring eyes upon the gallery at his right
hand, and gave all the signs of a man who was frightened by a sudden
interruption of the divine worship. With a stentorian voice he cried out: 'What
is that I see? What means that rabble-rout of men coming up here? Hark! Hear
them shout? Hear their words: "Thanks to hell-fire! We have served
out our time. Thanks! Thanks! WE HAVE SERVED OUT OUR TIME. THANKS TO
HELL-FIRE!"' Then the preacher turned his face from the side gallery,
looked again upon the mass of the audience, and after a lengthened pause,
during which a fearful stillness pervaded the house, he said in gentle tones:
Is this the spirit of the saints? Is this the music of the upper world?
"And every created thing which is in heaven, and on the earth, and under
the earth, and on the sea, and all things that are in them, heard I saying,
Unto him that sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb, be the blessing, and
the honor, and the glory, and the dominion, for ever and ever. And the four
living creatures said, Amen."' During this dramatic scene five or six men
were sitting on a board which had been extemporaneously brought into the aisle
and extended from one chair to another. I was sitting with them. The board
actually shook beneath us. Every one of the men was trembling with excitement.
The power of the whole sermon was compressed into that vehement utterance. It
is more than fifty-eight years since I listened to that discourse. I remember
it well. I can recall the impression of it as distinctly as I could a
half-century ago; but if every word of it were on the printed page, it would
not be the identical sermon of the living preacher."

Upon Lyman Beecher and Asahel Nettleton, as
the most prominent leaders in the revival efforts which had been so successful
in New England, was thrown the responsibility of endeavoring to check the
evils threatening to attend the spread of what were supposed to be Finney's
ideas and methods of revival work. Mr. Beecher was at this time at the height
of his influence in Boston, where his labors had for some years been
accompanied with an almost continuous revival. Mr. Nettleton was everywhere
held in the highest esteem, and was equally honored for the evangelical
character of his doctrines, the conservatism of his methods, and the good
results following his preaching. But, though he was still in the prime of
life, his health had been so shattered two or three years before by typhus
fever that he was at that time, and ever after, unable to bear the strain of
continuous and severe work. In this sensitive condition of his nerves, he was
unduly affected, as it would seem, by the reports which came to him concerning
the irregularities attending Finney's labors, and felt called upon to do his
utmost to restrict their spread and influence.

In pursuance of this end, as already related,
it was arranged that he should come to Albany in the winter of 1826-27, and
there devote what strength he could to the promotion of a revival according to
his own approved methods. While here be prepared a letter, addressed to the
Rev. Dr. Aiken, of Utica, recounting the evil reports which he had heard
concerning the revivals connected with Finney's preaching in central New York.
This letter was not published at that time, but, as he afterwards admitted, it
was shown to about twenty leading ministers, and had their private approval. A
copy of it was then forwarded to Dr. Aiken in Utica, and to how many others is
not known. As was expected, Dr. Aiken's copy was shown to Finney at the time
referred to in the preceding narrative. In this letter it is stated that -

"The spirit of denunciation which has
grown out of the mode of conducting the revivals of the West is truly
alarming! The church at H- has been in a complete turmoil all summer long,
occasioned by a student in divinity who had heard Mr. Finney." (In a
note, however, Nettleton admits that he is not sure the student had heard
Finney. But that was surmised.) "He went about trying to raise a party to
'break down the pastor,' as he called it. A desperate attempt to introduce the
practice of females praying with males raised an angry dispute which lasted
all summer. And they had a revival of anger in the church, but no more
conversions. This account I had from the lips of the minister of the place,
his wife, and session. The evil is running in all directions. A number of
churches have experienced a revival of anger, wrath, malice, envy, and
evil-speaking, without the knowledge of a single conversion, - merely in
consequence of a desperate attempt to introduce these new measures. . . . The
friends of brother Finney are certainly doing him and the cause of Christ
great mischief. They seem more anxious to convert ministers and Christians to
their peculiarities than to convert souls to Christ. . . . They dared not
attempt to correct any of their irregularities for fear of doing mischief, and
of being denounced as enemies of revivals. This I know to be the fact.

"Brother Finney himself has been scarcely
three years in the ministry, and has had no time to look at the consequences.
He has gone, with all the zeal of a young convert, without a friend to check
or guide him. And I have no doubt that he begins with astonishment to look at
the evils which are running before him. . . . He has got ministers to agree
with him only by 'crushing' or 'breaking them down.' . . . An elder writes: 'I
have been fairly skinned by the demonstrations of these men, and have ceased
to oppose them, to get rid of their noise.' The phrases 'blistered,'
'skinned,' and 'broken down,' and 'crushed,' were coined and are current only
among the friends of the new measures. This language I took from their own
lips. . . . They do cultivate and awaken in others what very much resembles
the passion of anger, wrath, malice, envy, and evil-speaking. This is the
inevitable consequence of their style of preaching. As Dr. Griffin observed,
it sounds like the accredited language of profanity, or, as a pious woman of
color in Troy expressed it, 'I do wonder what has got into all the ministers
to swear so in the pulpit.'

"Now these means are very simple, and
just such as everybody can use, male and female. Who cannot call his minister
stupid and dead, and pray for him by name as such? and if be gets mad, and all
the church too, no matter for that. The more opposition the better. This is
certainly the way to have a revival, for it is Mr. Finney's method, and he has
the sanction of such men as Mr. Lansing and Aiken and others. They did not
believe in such methods at first, but they have been broken down. . . . Some
students of divinity and others, in their attempts to imitate brother Finney,
have reminded us of the conduct and success of the seven sons of Sceva, who
undertook to imitate Paul in Acts xix.

"The practice of females praying in
promiscuous assemblies is considered as absolutely indispensable, so that
nothing can be done without it. I am sorry to say that some young men have
been considered as acting amorously foolish on this subject. Some of my
brethren have been absolutely insulted by females on this subject.

"In the language of Dr. Griffin [then
President of Williams College], 'It [the new Western measures] is complete radicalism.
The means which it is said have been so successful at the West have been
so caricatured by the ignobile vulgus in religion, running before
brother Finney into every city and town, far and near, that I am sure he must
labor under prodigious disadvantage in all these places, without shifting the
entire mode of his attack."' "Whoever," Nettleton goes on to
say, "introduces the practice of females praying in promiscuous
assemblies, let the practice once become general, will early find to his
sorrow that he has made an inlet to other denominations, and entailed an
everlasting quarrel on those churches generally."

From many pastors at the West there is said to
come up the cry, "Brother Nettleton, do come into this region and help
us, for many things are becoming current among us which I cannot approve. And
I can do nothing to correct them, but I am immediately shamed out of it by
being denounced as an enemy of revivals.'

"So," he continues, "the bad
must be defended with the good. This sentiment adopted will certainly ruin
revivals. It is the language of a novice; it is just as the Devil would have
it. If the friends of revivals dare not correct their own faults, who will do
it for them? I know no such policy. I would no more dare to defend in the
gross than condemn in the gross.

"Irregularities are prevailing so fast,
and assuming such a character in our churches, as infinitely to overbalance
the good that is left. The practice of praying for people by name. . . . as it
now exists in many places, has become, in the eye of the Christian community
at large, an engine of public slander in the worst form. For Zion's sake, I
wish to save brother Finney from a course which I am confident will greatly
retard his usefulness before he knows it. It is no reflection on his talents
or piety that in his zeal to save souls he should adopt every measure which
promises present success, regardless of consequences, nor, after a fair
experiment in so noble a cause, to say, 'I have pushed some things beyond what
they will bear.' The most useful lessons are learned by experience."

Such was the alarm felt by a large portion of
the best Christian people in New England.

At this juncture Finney issued his first
printed sermon, which added no little fuel to the flame. This was upon the
text, "How can two walk together except they be agreed?" (Amos ii.
3.) It was originally preached in Utica, but was afterwards repeated in the
Presbyterian church, Troy, March 4, 1827, and was published by request of the
session.

The sermon is not doctrinal, but is
based on the theory of Edwards, that virtue consists in a movement of the
affections, and that its degree is to be measured by the strength of the
affections. It was directed against those who were "at ease in
Zion," and the preacher both assumed and asserted that the opposition to
the revival arose from a low state of the religious affection on the part of
the opponents. In defending this position, Finney argued that it is impossible
to be interested in the words of a speaker whose "tone of feeling"
on the subject under consideration is lower than our own, and, on the other
hand, if the speaker's own feelings are aroused to a more exalted pitch than
those of his hearers, they equally fail to be interested in his words. The
hearers then set it down as enthusiasm, and are displeased with the warmth of
expression "in which their own affections refuse to participate. Present
to the ardent politician his favorite subject in his favorite light," he
says, "and, when it has engaged his affections, touch it with the fire of
eloquence, cause it to burn and blaze before his mind, and you delight him
greatly. But change your style and tone, let down your fire and feeling, turn
the subject over, present it in a drier light, he at once loses nearly all his
interest, and becomes uneasy at the descent. Now change the subject, introduce
death and solemn judgment, he is shocked and stunned; press him with them, he
is disgusted and offended."(11)

Dr. Nettleton refers to this sermon with
a good deal of feeling, accepting the theory that it was prepared with
reference to him, and to the opposition to new measures of which he had become
the representative; and a perusal of the sermon, in the light of the
criticisms which Finney and his measures were then undergoing, does, indeed,
make it probable that it was designed for a defense of himself and of his work
against various forms of opposition, but there are no personal allusions in
it. Nettleton objected to the sermon on the ground that Finney makes no
distinction between true and false zeal, and that therefore the view
encourages self-righteousness, hypocrisy, and pride. "According to the
principle of his own sermon," says Nettleton, "brother Finney and
his friends cannot walk with God, for they are not agreed. It must be
acknowledged that God has an infinitely higher tone and degree of holy feeling
than brother Finney; he is not up to it. Consequently, on his own principles,
they cannot be agreed. God is displeased with him, and he with God. Brother
Finney must 'necessarily' be displeased with high and holy zeal in his Maker,
which so infinitely transcends his own; and the 'farther it is above his
temperature the more he will be disgusted."(12)

About this time, also, Lyman Beecher
wrote a long letter to Dr. Beman similar to the one which Nettleton had
written to Aiken, but going less into particulars. He too had become
thoroughly alarmed, and thought it necessary that the spread of the "new
measures," as they were called, should be checked. In all this Beecher is
charged by the "Christian Examiner"(13)
with being actuated by an ill-regulated desire to retain the respect of the
more cultivated people of New England for revival measures. In this letter
Beecher compared the work in central New York to the last stages of the
extravagances connected with Davenport's preaching in Boston, nearly one
hundred years before, which had done much to bring such movements in general
into discredit, and to check the progress of the revival influence connected
with Edwards's labors.

Davenport and his followers were, according to
Beecher, "the subjects of a religious nervous insanity. They mistook the
feeling of certainty and confidence, produced by nervous excitement and
perverted sensation, for absolute knowledge, if not for inspiration; and drove
the whirlwind of their insane piety through the churches with a fury which
could not be resisted, and with a desolating influence which in many places
has made its track visible to the present day. It was this know-certain
feeling which emboldened Davenport to chastise aged and eminent ministers, and
to pray for them and denounce them as unconverted, and to attempt to break
them down by promoting separations from all who would not conform implicitly
to his views by setting on fire around them the wood, hay, and stubble which
exist in most communities, and may easily be set on fire, at any time, by
rashness and misguided zeal; and so far as my observation extends, the man who
confides exclusively in himself, and is inaccessible to advice and influence
from without, has passed the bounds of sound reason, and is upon the confines
of destruction.

"All your periodical Christians,
who sleep from one revival to another, will be sure to blaze out now; while
judicious ministers, and the more judicious part of the church, will be
destined to stand, like the bush, in the midst of the flames; while these
periodical Christians will make up by present zeal for their past stupidity,
and chide as cold-hearted formalists those whose even, luminous course sheds
reproof on their past coldness and stupidity. The converts, too, will catch
the same spirit, and go forth to catechise aged Christians, and wonder why old
saints don't sing, and make the heavenly arches ring, as they do; and that
shall come to pass which was spoken by Isaiah the prophet, as the destruction
of human society and the consummation of divine wrath upon man, when children
shall be princes in the church, and babes shall rule over her, and the child
shall behave himself proudly against the ancient, and the base against the
honorable."(14)

As the "Christian Examiner"
well says, these private letters were not eminently adapted to accomplish the
purpose for which they were written. The result was that it seemed necessary
at last for the Western brethren and the Eastern brethren to meet in friendly
converse and compare opinions, with a view to future harmony and efficiency.
To further this end, Beman went on to Boston to confer with Beecher, and
between them it was decided to invite a number of representative
Congregational and Presbyterian ministers from both sides to hold an early
conference upon the questions at issue. Letters of invitation were at once
sent out, (15)
and the convention assembled at New Lebanon in July, 1827. This was not in any
sense an ecclesiastical court, but simply a gathering of representative men
from the East and from the West, upon their personal responsibility, to
consider the situation and report to the Christian public upon it. Finney had
nothing whatever to do with arranging for the convention, and he was not in
any sense on trial. It was the measures which he and his coadjutors were
employing which were on trial. Finney was simply one of the invited members.

The clergymen present were, from the East,
Lyman Beecher, of Boston, Heman Humphrey, President of Amherst College, Asahel
Nettleton, from Connecticut, Justin Edwards, of Andover, Mass., Caleb J.
Tenney, of Wethersfield, and Joel Hawes, of Hartford, Conn.; from New York
State, Asahel S. Norton, of Clinton, Moses Gillett, of Rome, N. S. S. Beman,
of Troy, D. C. Lansing, of Auburn, John Frost, of Whitesborough, William R.
Weeks, of Paris, Henry Smith, of Camden, Charles G. Finney, of Oneida County,
George W. Gale, of the Oneida Academy, and Silas Churchill, pastor at New
Lebanon.

Upon assembling, it was proposed by the
Western pastors that the brethren from the East should enter into an inquiry
concerning the truth of the reports which had been so widely circulated as to
the irregularities connected with the revivals in question. But for some
reason they declined to enter upon any such investigation, though all the
chief actors in those revivals were present in the convention, and from
personal knowledge could have answered every inquiry that could have been put
to them. A resolution was introduced, stating that the object of the
convention was to see in what respects there is an agreement between brethren
from different sections of the country in regard to principles and measures in
conducting and promoting revivals of religion." After a day's discussion,
fourteen voted upon this, yes (Finney with them); one (Beman), no; and two
(Frost and Aiken) declined to vote.

Upon the forenoon of the second clay (July
19th), it was unanimously voted, "That revivals of true religion are the
work of God's Spirit, by which, in a comparatively short period of time, many
persons are convinced of sin, and are brought to the exercise of repentance
toward God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ;

"That the preservation and extension of
true religion in our land have been much promoted by these revivals;

"That, according to the Bible and the
indications of Providence, greater and more glorious revivals are to be
expected than have yet existed;

"That, though revivals of religion are
the work of God's Spirit, they are produced by means of divine truth and human
instrumentality, and are liable to be advanced or hindered by measures which
are adopted in conducting them. The idea that God ordinarily works
independently of human instrumentality, or without any adaptation of means to
ends, is unscriptural;

"There may be some variety in the mode of
conducting revivals, according to local customs, and there may be relative
imperfections attending them, which do not destroy the purity of the work and
its permanent and general good influence upon the church and the world; and in
such cases, good men, while they lament these imperfections, May rejoice in
the revivals as the work of God."

The result of the afternoon's discussion was
the adoption, by unanimous vote, of the following propositions: -

"There may be so much human infirmity,
and indiscretion, and wickedness of man, in conducting a revival of religion,
as to render the general evils which flow from this infirmity, indiscretion,
and wickedness of man greater than the local and temporary advantages of the
revival; that is, this infirmity, indiscretion, and wickedness of man may be
the means of preventing the conversion of more souls than may have been
converted during the revival.

"In view of these considerations, we
regard it as eminently important that there should be a general understanding
among ministers and churches in respect to those things which are of a
dangerous tendency, and are not to be countenanced."

Before adjourning, however, Edwards, of
Andover, introduced a proposition which brought the body nearer to one of the
real questions at issue. It was that, "in social meetings of men and
women for religious worship, females are not to pray." This was discussed
all the next forenoon, and in the afternoon a motion was made by Aiken,
seconded by Finney, that they postpone further consideration of the question
until after they had made inquiry with reference to matters of fact. This was
voted down, when a vote upon the main question resulted in a tie; nine voting
in favor, and nine declining to vote. It was then moved by Frost, and seconded
by Finney, that the following question be answered, to wit: -

"Is it right for a woman in any case to
pray in the presence of a man?"

For this there was offered, as a substitute,
the proposition, that "There may be circumstances in which it may be
proper for a female to pray in the presence of men." This was lost;
eight, only, voting for it, and ten declining to vote.

On the 21st it was voted, on motion of
Edwards, that "it is improper for any person to appoint meetings in the
congregations of acknowledged ministers of Christ, or to introduce any
measures to promote or conduct revivals of religion, without first having
obtained the approbation of said ministers." Finney, with twelve others,
voted for this proposition, while five, consisting of the pastors in central
New York, declined to vote, recording as a reason, that there may be some
cases where the elders or members of a minister's own church may appoint
and conduct prayer-meetings without having consulted the minister, or obtained
his approbation, but in no case ought such elders or members to appoint or
conduct such meetings contrary to the will of the pastor; and these meetings
ought to be occasional, and not stated." Then followed a proposition to
which there was unanimous agreement, namely, Those meetings for social
religious worship in which all speak according to their own inclinations, are
improper; and all meetings for religious worship ought to be under the
presiding influence of some person or persons." The next proposition was
not so easy to formulate. They were not prepared to vote that the
"calling of persons by name in prayer ought to be carefully
avoided," but were all agreed that "the calling of persons by name
in public prayer ought to be carefully avoided."

Monday was spent in discussions which resulted
in the adoption of the proposition that "audible groaning in prayer is,
in all ordinary cases, to be discouraged; and violent gestures and boisterous
tones, in the same exercise, are improper." Fourteen voted in favor of
this, including Finney, and three declined voting. All were agreed, also, to
the proposition that speaking against ministers of the Lord Jesus Christ, in
regular standing, as cold, stupid, or dead, as unconverted, or enemies to
revivals, as heretics, or enthusiasts, or disorganizers, as deranged or mad,
is improper."

On the following day there was unanimous
consent to the proposition of Edwards that "the existence in the churches
of evangelists, in such numbers as to constitute an influence in the community
separate from that of the settled pastors, and the introduction, by
evangelists, of measures, without consulting the pastors, or contrary to their
judgment and wishes, by an excitement of popular feeling which may seem to
render acquiescence unavoidable, is to be carefully guarded against, as an
evil which is calculated, or at least liable, to destroy the institution of a
settled ministry, and fill the churches with confusion and disorder." It
was also voted that "language adapted to irritate, on account of its
manifest personality, such as describing the character, designating the place,
or anything which will point out an individual or individuals before the
assembly, as the subjects of invidious remark, is, in public prayer and
preaching, to be avoided." Five, among them Finney, declined voting;
Messrs. Lansing and Aikin giving the following as their reason: "The
undersigned do decline voting on the foregoing particular, not because they do
not most unequivocally condemn such personality in preaching as makes an
invidious exposure of individuals, but because they suppose that the article
in question may be liable to such construction as to lead many to say that
such characteristic preaching is condemned by this convention as is adapted to
make sinners suppose that their individual case is intended."

It was also unanimously agreed that "all
irreverent familiarity with God, such as men use towards their equals, or
which would not be proper for an affectionate child to use towards a worthy
parent, is to be avoided;" that "from the temporary success of
ardent young men, to make invidious comparisons between them and settled
pastors; to depreciate the value of education, or introduce young men as
preachers without the usual qualification, is incorrect and unsafe; "that
to state things which are not true, or not supported by evidence, for the
purpose of awakening sinners, or to represent their case as more hopeless than
it really is, is wrong;" that "unkindness and disrespect to
superiors in age or station is to be carefully avoided;" that "in
promoting and conducting revivals of religion, it is unsafe and of dangerous
tendency to connive at acknowledged errors, through fear that enemies will
take advantage from our attempt to correct them;" that "the
immediate success of any measure, without regard to its scriptural character,
or its future and permanent consequences, does not justify that measure, or
prove it to be right;" that "great care should be taken to
discriminate between holy and unholy affections, and to exhibit with clearness
the scriptural evidences of true religion;" that "no new measures
are to be adopted, in promoting and conducting revivals of religion, which
those who adopt them are unwilling to have published, or which are not proper
to be published to the world."

In the afternoon the propositions did not
carry such universal consent. It was now time for the brethren from New York,
fresh from their scenes of revival, to introduce some resolutions on their
side, with a view of rebuking the spirit of opposition with which they had to
contend. To begin with, Beman submitted the following self-evident and
innocent proposition: "As human instrumentality must be employed in
promoting revivals of religion, some things undesirable may be expected to
accompany them; and as these things are often proclaimed abroad and magnified,
great caution should be exercised in listening to unfavorable reports."
Eleven voted in favor of this proposition, but six - namely, Norton, Beecher,
Tenney, Weeks, Weed, and Edwards - declined to vote, putting on record that,
"as the above does not appear to us to be in the course of Divine
Providence called for, we therefore decline to act."

Beman's second proposition met with a similar
reception, and was as follows: "Although revivals of religion may be so
improperly conducted as to be attended with disastrous consequences to the
church and souls of men, yet it is true that the best conducted revivals are
liable to be stigmatized and opposed by lukewarm professors and the enemies of
evangelical truth." To this was appended the same caveat as before by the
six Eastern men, namely: "As the above does not appear to us to be in the
course of Divine Providence called for, therefore we decline to act."

A similar division and protest was made upon
the following propositions: "Attempts to remedy evils existing in
revivals of religion may, through the infirmity and indiscretion of man, do
more injury and ruin more souls than those evils which such attempts are
intended to correct." "The writing of letters to individuals in the
congregations of acknowledged ministers, or circulating letters which have
been written by others, complaining of measures which may have been employed
in revivals of religion; or visiting the congregations of such ministers and
conferring with opposers, without conversing with the ministers of such
places, and speaking against measures which have been adopted; or for
ministers residing in the congregations of settled pastors to pursue the same
course, thus strengthening the hands of the wicked, and weakening the bands of
settled pastors, are breaches of Christian charity and ought to be carefully
avoided." "In preaching the gospel, language ought not to be
employed with the intention of irritating or giving offense; but that
preaching is not the best adapted to do good, and save souls, which the hearer
does not perceive to be applicable to his own character." But to the two
following propositions there was unanimous agreement: "Evening meetings
continued to an unreasonable hour ought to be studiously avoided."
"In accounts of revivals of religion, great care should be taken that
they be not exaggerated." This was on Tuesday, July 24. The convention
continued for two more days, engaging in free discussion, conversation, and
devotional exercises, and then adjourned.

The work of the convention, when published to
the world, became the subject of an unusual amount of discussion in the
religious papers. According to all reports, the sessions had been amicable,
though Mr. Nettleton, who had not been heartily in favor of the convention,
and whose health, as we have said, was seriously shattered, absented himself
from most of the meetings. The full effects of the convention upon Beecher's
mind were not seen at once, but on his way home he dropped a casual remark in
presence of the landlord of the hotel where he stopped for dinner, on the east
side of the mountains, which revealed as clearly as words can do the most
important result of the conference. "We crossed the mountains," said
he, "expecting to meet a company of boys, but we found them to be
full-grown men."

In the course of a few months, the
letters of Beecher and Nettleton which led to the convention were published,
and were freely commented upon in pamphlets and correspondence, and it became
more and more evident that Beecher and his friends had been misinformed as to
the facts, and that there was nothing seriously objectionable in the new
measures connected with Finney's revivals. At the meeting of the General
Assembly in Philadelphia in the next May, the following document was signed
and published:(16)
-

The subscribers having had opportunity for
free conversation on certain subjects pertaining to revivals of religion,
concerning which we have differed, are of the opinion that the general
interests of religion would not be promoted by any further publications on
those subjects, or personal discussions; and we do hereby engage to cease from
all publications, correspondences, conversations, and conduct designed and
calculated to keep those subjects before the public mind; and that, so far as
our influence may avail, we will exert it to induce our friends on either side
to do the same. [Signed:]

Thus was a most important truce declared
between the followers of Nettleton and Beecher and the friends of Finney.

CHAPTER IV.

SUBSEQUENT EVANGELISTIC LABORS.

IT is gratifying to relate that the convention
at New Lebanon was conducted throughout in such a spirit that it did not
seriously interfere with the revival which had been in progress in the place.
Soon afterwards Finney was invited to labor in Wilmington, Del., with Rev. Mr.
Gilbert, whose home was in New Lebanon, and who had become familiar with
Finney's work while on a visit there. While at Wilmington, Finney was invited
to preach twice a week for some time in the church of Rev. James Patterson, of
Philadelphia. So great was the interest in this city that a little later it
was thought expedient for him to devote his whole time to Philadelphia. Here
he preached in turn in nearly all of the Presbyterian churches with great
effect, and continued in this way without intermission until August, 1828. To
satisfy the demand, at one time, he was compelled to repeat his sermon on the
text, "There is one God and one Mediator between God and man," seven
different evenings in succession in as many different churches. In the autumn
of 1828, it was deemed best that he should preach steadily in one place, and a
German church, the largest in the city, was selected. Here he continued until
the close of 1829, with no abatement in the revival interest.

During the winter of 1829-30, Finney
labored with his usual success in Reading, and then for a short time in
Lancaster, Pa. After a few weeks' visit to his home in Oneida County, New
York, he was induced by Anson G. Phelps, a well-known philanthropist, to come
to New York city. From the late William E. Dodge, Mr. Phelps's son-in-law, we
learn that this invitation was extended only after mature consideration and
correspondence. The well-known opposition of Nettleton and Beecher had led the
clergy of New York to look upon Finney with much suspicion; so that, according
to Mr. Dodge, there was not a Presbyterian church or any other church in the
city that would have invited him. Under these circumstances, it was difficult
to persuade Finney to come to the city at all. But Mr. Phelps corresponded
with Dr. Lansing, of Auburn, and through him overcame Finney's hesitation. A
vacant Presbyterian church in Vandewater Street was hired by Mr. Phelps, and
Finney was accompanied to New York by Drs. Lansing and Beman, who for a week
remained with him at the house of Mr. Phelps, and held a succession of prayer
meetings with reference to the work about to be commenced. After three months,
a Universalist church in the neighborhood of Niblo's Garden was for sale, and,
as affording a more eligible audience-room, was purchased by Mr. Phelps, and
here the meetings were continued for a year longer, Finney preaching to
crowded audiences almost every night. Long "before the year was up,"
says Mr. Dodge, "there were many churches that would have been delighted
to invite him to come to them."(18)
Among the converts were many leading lawyers and other prominent business men
of the city. It was at this time, also, that the strong attachment between
Finney and the two Tappans, Arthur and Lewis, began, and that the foundations
were laid for their future influence in connection with his labors. As a
result of these meetings in New York city, the First Free Presbyterian Church
was formed (so called because the seats were free), to accommodate those not
heretofore in attendance upon any church.

Leaving New York city in the summer of 1831,
for a few weeks' rest with Mrs. Finney's parents at Whitestown, Oneida County,
Finney was urged while there to supply for a time the vacant pulpit of the
Third Presbyterian Church in Rochester. On account of local dissensions, the
opening seemed unpropitious. On calling some friends together at Utica to help
him to decide whether to go to Rochester, or to some one of the other fields
which were open to him, they with one consent advised him to return to New
York or Philadelphia, rather than go to Rochester. To this view he assented,
and they left him, expecting that on the next morning he would take the canal
boat with his family for the East. But during the night his mind was deeply
wrought upon with the conviction that he ought not to shrink from the work at
Rochester. Greatly to the surprise of his friends at Utica, therefore, Finney
with his family embarked the following morning on the packet boat going west
instead of east.

The revival in Rochester was remarkable
for its extent, its depth, the class of people brought under its influence,
and as a preparation for subsequent labors of Finney in the same city. Though
the population in 1831 was only about 10,000, the number of converts in the
city alone was upwards of 800, while large numbers in all the surrounding
towns were affected by the movement. As a result, 1,200 united that year with
the churches of the Rochester Presbytery, besides the large number whose
affiliation was with other denominations. At this time, as at later periods of
revival under Finney's preaching in Rochester, the leading citizens of the
place were the first to be moved. Nearly all of the lawyers, judges,
physicians, merchants, bankers, and master mechanics of the city were among
the converts; so that, according to unquestionable testimony,(19)
"the whole character of the city was changed. . . . And the city has been
famous ever since for its high moral tone, its strong churches, its
evangelical and earnest ministry, and its frequent and powerful revivals of
religion. . . . Those who know the place best ascribe much of all the good
that has characterized it to the shaping and controlling influence of that
first grand revival. Even the courts and prisons bore witness to its blessed
effect. There was a wonderful falling off in crime. The courts had little to
do, and the jail was nearly empty for years afterwards." It is said,
also, that no less than forty of the young men who were converted entered the
ministry. All classes of society were equally influenced. "The only
theatre in the city was converted into a livery stable, the only circus into a
soap and candle factory," the "grog shops were closed," and
"a new impulse was given to every philanthropic enterprise."

It was at Rochester that Finney first
introduced into his own meetings the practice of inviting persons forward to
"the anxious seat." Previous to this time, his efforts to bring his
hearers to an immediate decision had been limited to invitations to "an
inquiry meeting," or, when the interest warranted it, those in the
audience who were seriously considering the question of their religious duties
were asked to rise, and by that act publicly commit themselves to the service
of God. As Finney recognized no intermediate position between a state of
disobedience and a state of obedience, he never adopted a formula of
invitation which implied such a state. He did not ask his hearers to do
anything which would intimate that any progress had been made in becoming
reconciled to God previous to an entire surrender of their will to the Divine
Will. When he introduced into his services the so-called "anxious
seat," the invitation was to those who were ready to repent of their
sins, and to consecrate their whole hearts to God. Such were invited to
respond at once in a public committal, and were asked to separate themselves
from the world, and to come forward to specified seats, where there would be
opportunity for personal conversation and direction.

The opposition to the anxious seat arose
largely from its theological significance, since the Old School Calvinists
were not willing to admit that the human will possessed that self-determining
power implied in these urgent appeals to immediate submission. In their view,
there was little natural connection between the means used for the persuasion
of men and their conversion. According to their theory, conversion could only
follow regeneration, and that was a mysterious process wrought directly by God
on the hearts of the elect. Instead of urging men to immediate repentance, it
was the habit of the preachers of this school to urge their hearers to use the
means of grace, and wait on the Lord for Him to transform their tastes and
desires according to his sovereign grace; whereas Finney always proceeded upon
the assumption that there was nothing but the perverse will of the sinner
which, at any time, prevented him from becoming an inheritor of the divine
promises. Consequently his preaching always had in view immediate results, and
he always proceeded upon the theory that the proper province of the preacher
related to the action he was to elicit from his hearers, and he so set forth
the gospel scheme in accordance with this theory as to sweep away every excuse
for man's inaction. Finney's use, therefore, of the anxious seat must be
interpreted in connection with his whole system of theology. It should be
remarked, however, that he had no inordinate attachment to any particular
measure, and did not employ any with unvarying uniformity. He was more afraid
of formality than of almost anything else.

In connection with this account of Finney's
labor in Rochester in 1831, it will be profitable to glance forward to his
subsequent labors in the same city, which occurred in 1842 and 1856. On each
of these occasions the invitation came from the lawyers of the city as he was
passing through, toward Oberlin, on his way from the East. On both occasions,
also, the results were equally striking with those in 1831. In 1842, another
revival was in progress in the city in connection with the preaching of the
famous Jedediah Burchard. As Burchard largely drew the common people, Finney's
audiences were composed of the most intelligent portions of the people,
including the lawyers who invited him, almost in a body. As he proceeded from
night to night with his lectures addressed especially to them, the interest
increased, and finally culminated, without any call on Finney's part, in a
spontaneous movement, in which the lawyers, almost en masse, arose one evening
and expressed their determination henceforth to live Christian lives, and to
acknowledge God before the world.

In the winter of 1855-56, the request from the
lawyers was that he would give them a course of lectures on "The Moral
Government of God." The lectures then given resulted in the conversion of
large numbers of the class inviting him, as well as in an extensive work
throughout the whole community. On each of these occasions it is estimated
that the converts were not less than one thousand.

The last time he was at Rochester, the First
Presbyterian Church refused to unite with the other churches in support of
Finney. The following letter, addressed to me in answer to inquiries,
therefore has special value in attestation of the genuineness of the work: -

EVELYN COLLEGE, PRINCETON, N. J., May 4,
1890.

DEAR SIR, - In answer to your note of March
29th inquiring for particulars of Mr. Finney's labors in Rochester while I was
there, I am happy to say that I regard them as connected with the greatest
work of grace I have ever seen in any of the churches. I was not in sympathy
with it at the time, and would not admit Mr. Finney into the pulpit of the
First Church, of which I was then pastor; but I have long been convinced that
I was totally wrong, and have since taken occasion to say so to the church
itself. During the revival Rochester rocked to its foundations. Great numbers
of hopeful converts were added to all the churches during his labors. You are
at liberty to make what use of these statements you please.

Very truly yours,

J. H. MCILVAINE.

But, going back to the spring of 1831, when
Finney closed his first season of labor at Rochester, we must follow him
briefly in subsequent years. He started East on an urgent invitation from Dr.
Nott, President of Union College, Schenectady, to bold revival meetings which
should be accessible to the students under his care. It was on this journey
that, as previously related, Finney was invited to preach at Auburn to the
very congregation and people who had with so much spirit turned away from him
five or six years before, and in the course of six weeks five hundred were
converted.

From Auburn he was called to Buffalo, where
the same influential classes were reached by the means of grace as at
Rochester, though not to an equal extent.

In the autumn of 1831, he went by
invitation to preach for a while at Providence, Rhode Island, and while there
received a request from the Congregational ministers and churches of Boston to
labor in that city. The change in public sentiment can be appreciated only by
recalling the strength of Beecher's opposition four years before, when he had
said to Finney: Finney, I know your plan, and you know I do; you mean to come
to Connecticut and carry a streak of fire to Boston. But if you attempt it, as
the Lord liveth, I'll meet you at the State line, and call out all the
artillerymen, and fight every inch of the way to Boston, and then I'll fight
you there."(20)
The true magnanimity and sincerity of Beecher appear in the fact that now he
headed the invitation to have Finney come to Boston. This was brought about,
it seems, by a chance meeting between Finney and Catherine Beecher. Some one
had written to Finney about his coming to Boston, but upon this meeting with
Miss Beecher, Finney said: "Your father vowed solemnly at the New Lebanon
Convention he would fight me if I came to Boston, and I shall never go there
until he asks me." "So," as Beecher says, "we wrote and
invited him, and he came, August, 1831, and did very well."(21)

In Boston, as elsewhere, marked results
attended the preaching. Dr. Edward Beecher writes, under date of November 6,
1889: "I was pastor of Park Street Church when he [Finney] was first
invited to preach in Boston, and I invited him to preach for me. He complied
with my request, and preached to a crowded house the most impressive and
powerful sermon I ever heard. . . . No one can form any conception of the
power of his appeal. It rings in my ears even to this day. As I was preaching
myself, I did not hear him again. But I met good results in all who heard him,
and have ever honored and loved him, as one as truly commissioned by God to
declare his will as were Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Paul."(22)

Finney's preaching in Boston, however, was not
followed either at this time or at any other by such a general movement as in
some other places. At four subsequent periods Finney labored in Boston,
namely, in the winters of 1842, 1843, 1856, and 1857. During the first and
second of these, he preached in Marlborough Chapel; on the last two occasions,
in Park Street Church. At all these times, extensive revivals attended his
ministry, and it is the universal testimony of the members of Park Street
Church surviving from that time that the conversions were characterized by
greater permanence than were those brought about in connection with the labors
of any other revivalist whom they have had with them.

In the summer of 1832, Finney was
invited again to New York city, at this time to preach in the Chatham Street
Theatre, which Lewis Tappan and others leased for the use of the Second Free
Presbyterian Church, which had grown out of the movement inaugurated by Finney
two years before. This was the year of the famous visitation of the cholera.
In the midst of the installation services, Finney was taken down with the
disease; and, though he recovered, his prostration was so great that he was
unable to preach till the following spring. Upon resuming his labors with the
church, though he was still somewhat feeble in health, he preached twenty
evenings in succession at the outset. As a result, there were as many as five
hundred converts, making the church so large that a colony was formed to
organize another, which occupied a building on the corner of Madison and
Catherine streets. From this time on, the number of meetings was diminished,
but the revival continued for two years, in the course of which no less than
seven churches grew out of the movement. Toward the close of this period,
Finney became so dissatisfied with the difficulties of administering
discipline through the Presbyterian forms of procedure that his friends
decided upon organizing a Congregational Church, and proceeded to build the
Broadway Tabernacle. When the building was completed, he took his dismission
from the Presbytery,(23)
and became pastor of the Broadway Tabernacle Congregational Church, which,
with slight reorganization, is the same as that of which Dr. Joseph P.
Thompson and Dr. William M. Taylor subsequently became pastors.

During Finney's New York pastorate, many
events occurred of both public and private significance. He found his own
health badly broken down at the beginning of 1834, and was advised to take a
sea voyage. Consequently he embarked in the midst of winter upon a small brig,
bound for the Mediterranean. The weather was stormy; his quarters were close;
the captain was given to strong drink; and so the voyage was not a
satisfactory means of recuperation. But it enabled him to spend a few weeks in
Malta and Sicily, and added to his experience some vivid scenes connected with
storms at sea which often furnished illustrations for his sermons in
subsequent years. Here, too, his knowledge of seamanship, early acquired on
Lake Ontario, was put to practical use. At one time, when a storm was raging
and the vessel was in great peril, and the captain was disabled by drink, the
command of the ship temporarily devolved on Finney. But he was equal to the
occasion; and, indeed, his imperial qualities were such that he really
appeared at his best in such a position. Finney was absent on this voyage
about six months, and naturally, as he was approaching his native shore again,
with his health not much improved, his mind was deeply agitated over the
question how his revival work should be carried on without him. This anxiety
culminated in a day of great distress, in which he gave himself to prayer
during almost the whole time. The experiences of this day, and the peace of
mind which followed it, were always looked back to with the greatest interest
and encouragement, and had much to do with his readiness soon after to
undertake the work of educating ministers at Oberlin.

In connection with Finney's first period of
labor in New York city, the "New York Evangelist" was started, for
the express purpose of representing, as its name indicates, the revival
interests of the period. The first number was issued March 6, 1830, and Finney
assisted in its preparation. The paper soon obtained a large circulation,
especially when, after two years, Rev. Joshua Leavitt became its editor.
Leavitt was an ardent anti-slavery advocate, and Finney was by no means an
indifferent spectator of the anti-slavery conflict, speaking his mind freely
in his sermons, though never giving any large amount of time or strength to
the discussion. But his position was well known; if not from what he himself
said, at any rate from the character of the men who sustained him in his
church, prominent among whom were the brothers Arthur and Lewis Tappan, and
now at length Mr. Leavitt. The practical caution of Finney's mind is well
illustrated in his parting advice to Leavitt, when about to set sail upon the
voyage just referred to, which was that Leavitt should be careful not to go
too fast in the discussion of the antislavery question, lest he should destroy
his paper.

Leavitt, however, was not able to follow the
advice. The times had not been favorable for the calm exercise of judgment.
His first greeting to Finney upon his return from the Mediterranean voyage
was, 'I have ruined the 'Evangelist' by my advocacy of radical anti-slavery
measures." This confession was the basis of an appeal to Finney to write
for the paper a series of articles on revivals, in order to increase the
subscription list. In response to this appeal, Finney at once began giving a
series of revival lectures, which Leavitt reported, and printed from week to
week in his paper. Finney's bold upon the religious public appears in the
result. The publication of the lectures acted like magic, and subscriptions to
the paper began to pour in beyond all precedent. Of the character and effect
of these lectures we shall speak in another place.

The fall and winter of 1834-35 witnessed a
continuous and deep revival in connection with Finney's preaching in the
Tabernacle, and plans were taking shape for establishing a course of
theological lectures with the special design of training persons for revival
work. A theological lecture room had been provided with such an end in view,
and arrangements were in progress for the completion of the scheme, when
events occurred which led to the transfer of that part of Finney's work to
Oberlin, and to the establishment of a theological seminary at that place.

After his removal to Oberlin, Finney
ordinarily devoted three or four months of the year to revival efforts in
other places. Reference has already been made to his later work in Rochester
and Boston. In addition to this, he preached for short periods in revival
meetings in Cleveland and Cincinnati, Ohio; in Detroit and other places in
Michigan; in Western, Rome, and Syracuse, New York; and in Hartford, Conn. In
the autumn of 1849, he went to England, and labored continuously in revivals
in various places for a year and a half, nine months of the time in London.(24)
In 1858, he returned to England, and was absent from home nearly two years,
preaching at various places both in England and in Scotland. During both of
these visits to England his labors were unremitting, and the revivals
attending his preaching were continuous and most extensive.

While he was in Oberlin, during all this
period, scarcely a year passed without an extensive religious awakening among
the great crowd of incoming students. After 1860, his strength was not
sufficient to warrant his undertaking to preach in other places. But in
connection with this portion of his life in Oberlin, the years 1860, 1866, and
1867 were marked by special revivals

This bare recital of Finney's later
labors will convey a false impression if we fail to record that theoretically
he was strongly opposed to "spasmodic efforts" at promoting
revivals. His views on this point were most fully set forth in a series of
thirty-two letters on revivals which he furnished to the "Oberlin
Evangelist" in the years 1845 and 1846. In the seventeenth and eighteenth
letters, he tells us that from the first his practice was to add to the
services of the Sabbath only "as many meetings during the week as could
well be attended, and yet allow the people to carry forward their necessary
worldly business." And he pronounces it a grand error to attempt to
promote revivals by breaking in for a while on all the ordinary and necessary
duties of life, and making every day a Sabbath for a number of weeks in
succession, thus forcing the attendants, in order to maintain their business,
to neglect all further meetings except on the Sabbath.(25)

In a subsequent letter, he sets forth
the importance of holding protracted meetings when the people are most free
from the pressing cares of business. While guarding against the dangers of
spasmodic efforts, therefore, he recommends and beseeches the churches
"to make special and extraordinary efforts at every season of the year
when time can be spared from other necessary avocations to attend more
particularly to the great work of saving souls."(26)

CHAPTER V.

REMOVAL TO OBERLIN.

IN the summer of 1835, Finney removed to
Oberlin to begin his career as educator. The circumstances which led to this
change of base, and which gave such marked and long-continued success to his
labors there, should now be detailed with considerable fullness.

Reference has already been made to his
association, in New York city, with Arthur and Lewis Tappan, two business men
of great energy and skill, who were, at that time, in the midst of a most
successful mercantile career. In addition to their interest in the revival
measures characterizing the period, they were among the first to take an
active part in promoting the anti-slavery cause. Indeed, it may be said that
the initiation and early direction of that movement were more dependent upon
the activity of Arthur Tappan than upon that of any other one man. With his
wealth he was able, by well-directed pecuniary aid, to make himself felt at
every point of need.

But the anti-slavery cause by no means
absorbed all of Tappan's energies. This was only one of many efforts on his
part to help on enterprises designed to improve the general condition of his
fellow-mein. He was foremost in the temperance reformation. He was a faithful
supporter of John McDowell in his efforts to repress licentiousness in New
York city. He was an earnest and practical advocate of the strict observance
of the Lord's Day. The New York "Journal of Commerce" was founded by
him in 1827 for the express purpose of elevating the character of the daily
press, and of demonstrating that a daily paper of the highest character could
be published without involving any Sunday labor. He took radical grounds
against the use of tobacco. In his opposition to slavery he had naturally
interested himself in the objects of the American Colonization Society,
organized in 1816 in aid of a movement which for many years was supposed to be
one of the necessary steps to the final abolition of slavery. As time went on,
he was one of the first to perceive that this society was really an ally of
slavery, and a main supporter of the spirit of caste which he so much
despised. But he had gone so far at one time in the support of this society as
to contemplate establishing a line of packets between New York and the colony
of Liberia for opening trade with the interior of Africa. His confidence in
the society, however, was shaken by finding that ardent spirits, tobacco, and
powder and balls were leading articles of trade at the colony, and were
considered indispensable in making up an invoice of goods to be sent thither.
He therefore at length came to believe, with many others, that he had been
drawn into the society under a delusion, and that the effect of its work was
to foster the system of caste by aiming to get rid of the free colored people,
thus giving additional security to the system of slavery in this country.

Opposition to the Colonization Society
rapidly became the test question as to one's real attitude towards slavery;
and Arthur Tappan was among the first to join bands with Garrison in
criticising its aim and opposing its progress. In 1831, while residing
temporarily in New Haven, Conn., he, with Rev. Mr. Jocelyn, planned a college
for colored people in that city, for which Tappan was to supply the necessary
funds. But a hue and cry was raised, a public meeting was called by the mayor,
and amidst great excitement it was "Resolved, by the Mayor,
Aldermen, Common Council, and freemen of the city of New Haven, in meeting
assembled, that we will resist the establishment of the proposed
college in this place by every lawful means."(27)
In view of this, the scheme was abandoned. Soon after, in the autumn of 1832,
Miss Prudence Crandall, a member of the Society of Friends and a successful
teacher, at the invitation of friends in Canterbury, Conn., had purchased a
large house for the establishment of a school for young ladies. A worthy
colored girl of the village, who was a member of the village church, and who
all her life had attended the public schools, applied for admission. Her
application was resisted by the citizens, and, upon Miss Crandall's
determination to admit the girl, all her other pupils withdrew. Seemingly the
only course left was to establish a school exclusively for colored girls. She
made an announcement accordingly, and her school was filled with pupils of
this class gathered from a wide range of country.

But as in New Haven, so in Canterbury, the
citizens gathered together in town-meeting to abate the nuisance, and passed
resolutions similar to those passed in New Haven. As this was not effective,
they appealed to the state legislature, and speedily secured a law making it a
misdemeanor to establish in Connecticut any school or literary institution for
the education of colored persons not inhabitants of the State. The passage of
this law was received in Canterbury with the firing of cannon, the ringing of
bells, and a general demonstration of delight. Under its provisions, Miss
Crandall was arrested on the 27th of June, and, after imprisonment in a
felon's cell for one night, was bound over for trial before the county court
in August. Her adviser was Rev. Mr. May, a Unitarian minister in an adjoining
town. On learning the facts, Arthur Tappan wrote to Mr. May, promising to be
his banker, and instructing him to spare no necessary expense, to employ the
best legal counsel, and to let the great question of the constitutionality of
the law be fully tried. Tappan soon after visited May and Miss Crandall, and,
on seeing the hostility of public sentiment, authorized May to establish at
once a newspaper in which he could get a hearing for the truth. Accordinly the
"Unionist" was started, and put under the editorship of C. C.
Burleigh, Mr. Tappan paying the bills, together with those incurred in the
trial of Miss Crandall.

In 1830, Garrison, while editing an
anti-slavery paper in Baltimore, in company with Benjamin Lundy, was thrown
into prison and subjected to a fine for having commented severely upon a ship
captain from his native town of Newburyport, Mass., who had consented to take
slaves as freight from Baltimore to New Orleans. On hearing of this, Arthur
Tappan paid the fine, released Garrison from prison, and had an interview with
him as he passed through New York, on his way home to Boston, a few weeks
after. Garrison immediately established the "Liberator." To this
enterprise, also, Tappan gave considerable support, subscribing for a large
number of copies to be sent to different individuals.

In March, 1833, Tappan established in New York
city the "Emancipator," which became one of the most influential
anti-slavery organs. During the same year, he was one of the first to
recognize the great merits of John G. Whittier, who had recently published a
pamphlet at Haverhill, Mass., upon "Justice and Expediency; or, Slavery
considered with a View to its Rightful and Effectual Remedy, Abolition."
Of this, Whittier had ventured to print only five hundred copies. But Tappan,
on reading it, at once ordered the issue of five thousand copies at his own
expense, and it became one of the most important factors in increasing
abolition sentiment in the country.

During the same year, the Tappans, in company
with a few others, issued an immense number of anti-slavery tracts, and sent
them broadcast over the land, besides giving direct assistance to the
"New York Evangelist," edited by Joshua Leavitt, and to the
"Genius of Temperance," edited by William Goodell, both of which
gave much space to the anti-slavery discussion.

As a result of all these influences,
public sentiment was now wrought up to such a state that it seemed best to
organize an anti-slavery society in New York city. Consequently a call was
issued for a convention on the 2d of October, 1833, to accomplish this
purpose, and Clinton Hall was chosen as the place of meeting. Immediately upon
the announcement of this meeting, the following placard(28)
was posted in the streets of the city: -

NOTICE. - To all persons from the South. All
persons interested in the subject of a meeting called by J. Leavitt, William
Green, Jr., William Goodell, John Rankin, and Lewis Tappan, this evening at
seven o'clock, are requested to attend at the same hour and place.

MANY SOUTHERNERS.

NEW YORK, October 2, 1833.

From this it was clear that a riot was
imminent, and the owners of the hall withdrew their permission for its use.
The mob, however, gathered, but, not finding their victims, they adjourned to
Tammany Hall to adopt denunciatory resolutions and listen to inflammatory
speeches. Meanwhile the Tappans offered the use of one of the lecture-rooms in
Chatham Street Chapel, where Finney was pastor, and the society completed its
organization as soon as possible. Hardly was this done, and the constitution
adopted, with the election of Arthur Tappan as president, when the mob, to the
number of two thousand or more, appeared at the gates of the building,
shouting, "Garrison! Garrison! Tappan! Tappan! Where are they? Find them!
Find them! Ten thousand dollars for Arthur Tappan!" But Tappan and his
associates had escaped through a back way, and the mob entered the
lecture-room only to find it empty.

The excitement among the men of a baser sort
was increased by the utterances of the press and of various eminent
representatives of the Colonization Society. At a meeting on the 10th of
October, Chancellor Walworth referred to the members of the Anti-slavery
Society as "visionary enthusiasts" and "reckless
incendiaries," whose proposition was unconstitutional and dangerous. At
the same meeting, David B. Ogden, Esq., denounced them as "fanatics and
zealots." On the 4th of December, the American Anti-slavery Society was
organized at Philadelphia, and, though not present, Arthur Tappan was elected
to the presidency of the society, an office which he cheerfully accepted, and
the duties of which he laboriously performed. He also subscribed three
thousand dollars annually for its work. Under his administration, auxiliaries
multiplied all over the country; anti-slavery publications were scattered far
and wide; and antislavery lecturers appeared everywhere throughout the free
States.

Though the reform was conducted with rare
discretion, as the annual reports and other publications of the society
abundantly show, opposition to the movement became more and more violent. On
the 4th of July, 1834, about the time Finney returned from his voyage to the
Mediterranean, arrangements were made for a meeting in his chapel to celebrate
the Declaration of Independence. Mr. David Paul Brown, an eminent lawyer and
philanthropist from Philadelphia, was to give the address, but a noisy mob
took possession of the room, and made it impossible to go on with the
exercises. After several vain attempts to proceed, the meeting closed amid the
hurrahs of the rioters. This was on Friday. The papers of the city laid the
blame of these irregularities, not on the mob, but on the "Tappanists,"
who, they said, produced them. During the following week, the city was kept in
a ferment by incendiary editorials in the pro-slavery papers. On the evening
of the 7th, a meeting of colored people in the chapel was violently
interrupted by a mob, and a portion of the furniture was destroyed. Upon the
following evening, the mob again gathered in front of the chapel, under the
impression that there was another meeting to be broken up. Finding that they
were mistaken, they went over to the Bowery Theatre, where an objectionable
actor was performing, and broke up the play. Thence they proceeded to Rose
Street, to the house of Lewis Tappan, who with his family was absent in the
country, broke in the doors and windows, piled the furniture in the streets,
and made a bonfire of it. On Thursday, the mob surged backward and forward in
the vicinity of the house of Lewis Tappan, and made threatening demonstrations
against Arthur Tappan's store, but little damage was done. On Friday, riotous
demonstrations were again numerous: the church of Dr. Samuel Hanson Cox, a
warm friend of the Tappans, was attacked, likewise a Presbyterian church on
Spring Street, and the streets were barricaded. Total demolition of the
buildings was prevented only by the appearance of the military. A church for
colored people on the corner of Leonard and Church streets was also attacked,
and several of their houses were demolished and a large number of others more
or less injured. The same day, the mob reappeared in Pearl Street before
Tappan's store; but on learning that a well-trained body of clerks was inside,
abundantly armed to give them a deadly reception, they withdrew without
inflicting serious injury. By this time, the whole city was alarmed, and
effectual measures were taken by the mayor to suppress further disturbances.
The papers, however, did not cease to vent their spite upon Arthur Tappan and
his associates, some of them going so far as to urge their indictment as
public nuisances.

But, as already said, the promotion of an
anti-slavery sentiment was only a small portion of Arthur Tappan's
comprehensive designs. He was, first of all, a broad-minded, simple-hearted
Christian man, resolved on administering his stewardship in the fear of God
and for the good of his fellow-men, and we can trace the effects of his
farsighted benevolence in almost all the philanthropic and religious
enterprises that originated during the busy portion of his life. In 1820, he
gave $5,000 to the American Sunday-school Union to establish schools in the
valley of the Mississippi; and in the same year he endowed a scholarship in
the theological seminary at Andover. We find him active, at an early period,
in promoting interest in the American Bible Society and the American Tract
Society, giving $20,000 to the latter for the purpose of erecting its building
on Nassau Street. As a manager of the American Bible Society he was among the
most urgent in devising methods to provide every family in the United States
with a Bible, giving $5,000 to the object, in 1828. In 1826, the year of its
organization, he became a director of the American Home Missionary Society,
and was its auditor for thirteen years. Unknown to the public, he had in 1823,
the most critical period of its history, given $15,000 to Auburn Theological
Seminary to establish the Richards Professorship. About the same time, he
contributed also to the founding of a professorship in Kenyon College at
Gambier, Ohio. He was likewise active in founding the theological seminary at
New Haven. In 1828, he offered to pay $3,000 a year, for four years, to meet
the tuition of students in Yale College preparing for the ministry. Amherst
College, also, depended upon him for similar aid. He was for some years
president of the American Education Society, and for a longer time chairman of
its executive committee, giving regularly and largely to its funds.

Among the other educational enterprises
in which he was interested was Lane Theological Seminary, an institution which
was founded for the education of Presbyterian and Congregational ministers, at
Walnut Hills, a suburb of Cincinnati. The building up of this institution was
part of Tappan's general scheme for promoting the higher interests of the
great Mississippi valley. It was through his influence largely that Lyman
Beecher was persuaded to leave his important work in Boston, in 1832, and
become senior theological professor in the above-named institution, Tappan
subscribing a generous sum for the endowment of the chair. Upon the
consummation of Beecher's connection with Lane Seminary, there was a
remarkable influx of students, a large number from the Oneida Institute - in
which Tappan was greatly interested, and which was then under the charge of
Beriah Green - being among the first to avail themselves of the rare
opportunities afforded at Walnut Hills. To these students Tappan forwarded
liberal sums of money, which were specially to be used in sustaining schools
among the colored people of Cincinnati.(29)

But opposition to the anti-slavery
movement gave a sudden and unlooked-for change to affairs in Lane Seminary.
The students began to discuss the merits of the Colonization Society, and,
with the approbation of Mr. Beecher, formed an anti-slavery society. The
interest in these discussions very soon after became so great that the
trustees were alarmed, and advised the students to suspend the discussions
altogether. During the vacation in 1834, while Beecher was absent in New
England, the trustees went so far as to issue a positive order "that the
students be required to discontinue those societies [the Anti-slavery and
Colonization] in the seminary," and laid down the doctrine that "no
associations or societies ought to be allowed in the seminary except such as
have for their immediate object improvement in the prescribed course of
study;" and students were forbidden "to communicate with each other
on the subject, even at the table in the seminary commons." This was more
than the students could brook, and to the number of fifty or more (at least
four fifths of the whole) they withdrew in a body, and took possession of a
building offered them by a benevolent gentleman in Cummingsville, a few miles
away, where for five months they continued their studies together, with such
instruction as they could afford each other; Dr. Bailey, afterwards editor of
the "National Era," giving them a course of lectures on physiology.(30)
The state of affairs at Lane Seminary, of course, greatly distressed Tappan.
Of these young men, Beecher was saying, before large public audiences at the
East, that they were "a set of noble men, whom he would not at a venture
exchange for any others."(31)
Among them were numbered James A. Theme and William T. Allen, sons of
slaveholders, but who were ready to suffer expatriation, and disinheritance
even, rather than stifle their convictions on so important a question.

On his return West, Beecher, while passing
through New York, had an interview with Arthur Tappan and a few other friends
of the anti-slavery cause, and tried to persuade them that the differences
between the friends of the Colonization Society and those of the Anti-slavery
Society were not so great but that they could be harmonized without material
sacrifice of opinion and feeling. But Tappan had thought too long upon the
subject to be convinced by Beecher's arguments, and freely yet kindly
expressed his dissent. Beecher acknowledged that the course of the trustees in
Lane Seminary was indefensible, and said that he would never consent to the
suppression of discussion among the students.

On his arrival at Cincinnati, Beecher found
that the trustees were immovable in their determination. He attempted to
persuade the students to remain, however, in hope that the order would not be
executed, and that after a little time it might be repealed. But to this they
were too high-spirited to consent. Upon the consummation of the withdrawal of
these students, Arthur Tappan offered to furnish them $5,000 to provide
instruction for the remainder of their course, and conferred with Finney as to
the feasibility of his going there temporarily for that purpose.

It is at this critical juncture that Oberlin
comes into the field, and we have in the result one of those remarkable
providences that keep alive the sense of God's continual agency in the
direction of human affairs. In 1833, Rev. John J. Shipherd and Philo P.
Stewart (afterwards a successful inventor and manufacturer of stoves in Troy,
N. Y.) established a colony and an educational institute in the township of
Russia, Lorain County, O., thirtythree miles west of Cleveland and ten miles
south of Lake Erie. Their plans were similar to many others of the day, for
elevating the standard of education and religion in the Mississippi valley.
Among others, Nelson, author of "The Cause and Cure of Infidelity,"
started an enterprise of a similar sort in Missouri, and succeeded in
procuring considerable funds in New York for his project. Oberlin is one of
the few such schools and colonies which proved successful, and it is evident
that its success is due to that remarkable conjunction of events which led
Finney to cast in his lot with the enterprise.

The location of Oberlin was determined by the
gift of an unimproved tract of land owned by parties in New Haven, Conn. The
donation consisted of five hundred acres of level, stiff clay soil, heavily
covered with timber, at an elevation of 250 feet above the lake. This was in
the centre of a larger tract which the same parties had for sale at moderate
rates, which was mostly sold to the colonists with the promise that a portion
of the proceeds should form an endowment for the college. The name of the
place was chosen out of admiration for John Frederick Oberlin, the
distinguished French pastor of Alsace, in the Vosges Mountains, the fame of
whose Christian philanthropy had then just reached America. The families
constituting the colony were largely gathered from Vermont, New Hampshire, and
Massachusetts, where Mr. Shipherd had a wide acquaintance. These subscribed a
covenant in which the degeneracy of the church was lamented, the importance of
building up institutions of Christian learning in the valley of the
Mississippi was emphasized, and dependence upon the counsel of the Lord was
acknowledged. They pledged themselves to hold in possession no more property
than they could profitably manage as faithful stewards of God, and to practice
industry and economy, that they might have as much as possible to appropriate
for the spread of the gospel. They expressed it as their intention to eat only
plain and wholesome food, to renounce all bad habits, especially the use of
tobacco, and the drinking of even tea and coffee as far as practicable. They
expressed it as their purpose also to discard unwholesome fashions of dress,
to observe plainness and durability in the construction of their houses and
furniture, and to provide for the widows and orphans of the colony as for
their own families. They also affirmed their determination to maintain a deep
tone of personal piety, to provoke each other to love and good works, to live
together in all things as brethren, and to glorify God in their bodies and
spirits. But it was not a communistic covenant: all the property was held in
personal right. Nor did the covenant serve any practical purpose in settling
such disputes as afterwards arose. Its principal value was in sifting out from
the applicants those who were not actuated by the purest of motives. The
result was the collection at Oberlin of a class of pioneers of very high
character.

A school was opened upon the 3d of
December, 1833, when only eleven families were on the ground. Both sexes were
admitted, and half of the forty-four attendants were from the East. In
February, 1834, a charter was obtained under the name of Oberlin Collegiate
Institute, which was changed to Oberlin College in 1850. The first circular
announced it as one of the designs of the school to secure "the elevation
of female character, by bringing within the reach of the misjudged and
neglected sex all the instructive privileges which have hitherto unreasonably
distinguished the leading sex from theirs."(32)
During the next summer, there were in attendance one hundred and one students,
who filled every available room in the settlement, Everything was new and
rough. Roads had been cut through the forest, indeed, but they were still full
of stumps, and an agile and enterprising boy could almost cross the college
square upon them without touching the ground. The little opening was
surrounded on every side by an impenetrable wall of gigantic forest trees.
Scholarships had been issued at the rate of one hundred and fifty dollars
each, entitling the donor perpetually to the privileges of the school for a
single pupil. The plan of the school contemplated all departments of
instruction, from "the infant school up through the collegiate and
theological courses." The first college class was organized in October,
1834, and consisted of four young men. But Western Reserve College was already
well established and under an able corps of teachers at Hudson, about forty
miles away, and to sober observers the scheme of Mr. Shipherd and Mr. Stewart
seemed chimerical in the extreme.

Late in the autumn of 1834, the trustees
authorized Mr. Shipherd to go East for the purpose of securing funds and a
president. From a note in Mrs. Shipherd's diary, it appears that her husband
decided to go to New York by way of Cincinnati, in response to an impulse of
which he could give no satisfactory account to himself, and entirely without
the knowledge of the condition of affairs in Lane Seminary.

This statement is confirmed by the
account given by President Mahan,(33)
according to which an almost irresistible impression came over Shipberd's
mind, while he was engaged in prayer on the subject, that he should go to
Cincinnati before going to New York. Although he could give no reason for this
impression, in obedience to it he started south instead of east. After he had
passed over the first 150 miles of the journey, and had reached Columbus, he
found the traveling so had and his own strength so exhausted, that he
determined to abandon the project of visiting Cincinnati, and was about to
take the national road, - a macadamized highway just completed by the
government from the Atlantic coast to the Mississippi, - and go directly to
New York. At the hotel he chanced to meet Theodore Keep, the son of Rev. John
Keep, president of the Oberlin board of trustees. Young Keep had recently
graduated from Yale College, and had been to Cincinnati to join Lane Seminary,
but on learning the condition of the institution, had turned back and was on
his way home. From him Mr. Shipherd learned the state of affairs at Lane
Seminary and the attitude of Rev. Asa Mahan, the only one of the trustees who
had openly espoused the cause of the protesting students. Mahan was then
pastor of the Sixth Presbyterian church, now the Vine Street Congregational,
of Cincinnati. Keep suggested to Shipherd that Mahan would be an admirable
president for Oberlin, and urged Shipherd by all means to go on and call upon
him.

The only public conveyance between the cities
was a two-wheeled cart, drawn by four horses, upon which was a rude box
holding the mail. Into this open box, with the mail bags, Shipherd threw
himself, and was in due time drawn over the horrid midwinter roads to the
thriving metropolis upon the Ohio River, 150 miles away. He called upon Mahan,
visited the protesting students in their quarters at Cummingsville, and became
convinced that Mahan was indeed admirably fitted for the presidency, and that
John Morgan, one of the instructors who sided with the students, was a proper
person for a professorship which he was commissioned to fill. The protesting
students assured him also that, if these appointments should be made at
Oberlin, they would all go there and join the institution at the beginning of
the spring term.

When this plan was unfolded to Mahan, he at
once assented to it. On the 15th of December, 1834, Shipherd wrote from
Cincinnati, urging the trustees to appoint Asa Mahan president and John Morgan
professor of mathematics, at the same time saying that neither of these men
would accept the appointment unless the trustees would also give assurance
that students would be received into the institution irrespective of color.

This letter having been dispatched, Mahan and
Shipherd, without delay, though keeping their plans to themselves, set out
together for the East to obtain an endowment and to find a professor of
theology. Their first purpose was to secure for that position Theodore D.
Weld, an early convert of Finney. Weld had recently been a student at Lane
Seminary, but was now devoting his splendid abilities to lecturing against
slavery. Ascending the Ohio River to Ripley, they called upon Rev. John
Rankin, the distinguished abolitionist, and with his team drove thirty miles
north to Hillsborough to make the contemplated proposition to Weld, who at
that time was giving a course of anti-slavery lectures there. Weld at once
replied to them that he himself was not the man to undertake the work proposed
at Oberlin, but that Rev. Charles G. Finney was, and that they ought to go to
New York city and make proposals to him. Weld thought Finney would listen to
the call at that time, because his health was so greatly impaired that it was
doubtful if he could continue his former activity in evangelistic labors. In
accordance with this advice, they started on immediately for New York, and,
upon arriving, at once made their errand known to Finney and his friends. What
was Shipherd's dismay, however, to receive information that the trustees at
Oberlin had voted that until more definite information should come before
them, they did not feel prepared to pledge themselves to receive colored
students. But with his usual hopefulness he maintained his courage, and wrote
an importunate letter to the trustees, urging the claims of the colored people
from every point of view, stating that they would doubtless be received into
all such institutions by and by; why should Oberlin be the last to do them
justice? He added, as a clincher, "The men and money which would make our
institution most useful cannot be obtained if we reject our colored brother.
Eight professorships and ten thousand dollars are subscribed, upon condition
that Rev. C. G. Finney become professor of theology in our institute; and he
will not come unless the youth of color are received. Nor will Professor Mahan
nor Professor Morgan serve unless this condition is complied with; and they
all are the men we need, irrespective of their anti-slavery sentiments. If you
suffer expediency and prejudice to pervert justice in this case, you will in
another. Such is my conviction of duty in the case, that I cannot labor for
the enlargement of the Oberlin Collegiate Institute if our brethren in Jesus
Christ must be rejected because they differ from us in color. . . . I have
pondered the subject well with prayer, and believe that if the injured brother
of color, and consequently brothers Finney, Mahan, and Morgan, with eight
professorships and ten thousand dollars, must be rejected, I must join them,
because by so doing I can labor more effectually for a lost world and the
glory of God, - and, believe me, dear brethren and sisters, for this reason
only."

The reception of this letter created no small
amount of discussion and excitement in Oberlin, where, it appears, all but Mr.
Shipherd and two or three students were still attached in sentiment to the
Colonization Society. The trustees were called together at Mr. Shipherd's
house on the morning of February 9th, and it became evident that they were
very likely to exclude colored pupils. Mrs. Shipherd, in the midst of her
household cares, was not uninterested in the result, as she was fully in
accord with her husband. John Keep, temporary chairman, also sympathized with
her views, and took pains in the midst of the deliberations to inform her that
it was extremely doubtful how the matter would turn. Mrs. Shipherd at once
dropped her work, and collected her female friends in a neighboring house,
where they devoted themselves to unceasing prayer until the decision should be
announced. The vote was a tie, and was carried in favor of the admission of
colored students only by the casting ballot of the chairman. The resolution
itself is so indirect and peculiar as to be worthy of record: -

"Whereas, - There does exist in our
country an excitement in respect to our colored population, and fears are
entertained that on the one hand they will be left unprovided for as to the
means of a proper education, and on the other that they will in unsuitable
numbers be introduced into our schools, and thus in effect forced into the
society of the whites, and the state of public sentiment is such as to require
from the board some definite expression on the subject; therefore, resolved,
that the education of the people of color is a matter of great interest, and
should be encouraged and sustained in this institution."(34)

On such a delicate balance of influences did
the future of Oberlin turn. But the end was accomplished. After the adoption
of this resolution, Finney was elected professor of theology. Arthur Tappan
gave the promised $10,000 for the erection of a building, and secured a loan
of $10,000 more for other buildings, while several other gentlemen united with
him in engaging to pay quarterly the interest upon $80,000 to provide salaries
for eight professors at $600 each, intending eventually to pay the principal
as a permanent endowment.

President Mahan came on to Oberlin the
following May, and with his family occupied the first log house that had been
erected, until, with the means furnished from New York, the president's house
could be built. The protesting students of Lane Seminary, to the number of
thirty, came soon after, and at once a senior theological class of fourteen
was formed. To provide accommodations for them, "Cincinnati Hall"
was erected. This was one story high, one hundred and forty-four feet long,
and twenty-four feet wide. Its sides, partitions, ceilings, and floors were of
beech boards fresh from the mill. On the outside it was battened with slabs
retaining the bark of the original tree. One end of the hall was fitted up as
a kitchen and dining-room, and the remainder was divided into rooms twelve
feet square, with a single window to each, and a door opening out upon the
street.

Professors Finney and Morgan came upon the
ground in June, and began their teaching in such cramped quarters as the place
furnished. Tappan Hall, with four lecture-rooms and a dormitory, was speedily
erected, however, together with two commodious brick buildings for the
families of President Mahan and Professor Finney. The colonists soon after
erected a wooden building, also, which in the upper story provided other
dormitories, while the lower story was devoted to the joint purposes of chapel
and church. Until this was built, Finney preached in the dining-room of the
new boarding house, which had just been erected. But to secure at once a more
commodious place of meeting for the larger gatherings in Oberlin, and to
facilitate evangelistic services in the neighborhood, the friends of Finney,
by small subscriptions sent in principal part to the editor of the "New
York Evangelist," provided a tent one hundred feet in diameter, capable
of holding an audience of three thousand. There was a streamer at the top of
it, on which was written in large characters, "Holiness unto the
Lord." This was dedicated and first used in connection with the
Commencement in July, 1835.

The plan of Finney and his associates in New
York did not originally contemplate the surrender of all his work in that
city. The long vacation at Oberlin was placed in the winter, like that of most
other schools at this time, and Finney 'was expected to spend only about one
half of the year with his classes, and to return to his church for the rest of
the year. This he did for two seasons. But finding his health impaired, and
the double burden too great to carry, he resigned his pastorate, and was
dismissed by advice of the New York Association, April 6, 1837, to devote
himself more exclusively to his work at Oberlin, where he continued to be the
guiding and inspiring spirit for a period of forty years.

This is, perhaps, the best place to mention
that, among other trials through which Finney and his coadjutors at Oberlin
were so soon called to pass, not the least was the embarrassment connected
with the commercial crisis of 1837. On the 16th of December, 1835, the very
year in which Tappan and his friends had so liberally promised to endow the
institution, a disastrous fire occurred in New York city, and Tappan's store
was burned to the ground. From the effects of this, however, he was rapidly
recovering when the influence of the approaching financial storm, which
overwhelmed almost every firm in the country, began to be felt in his
business, and the suspension of his house was publicly announced in May, 1837.
From this it never rallied, and Tappan at length went into bankruptcy. Oberlin
had actually received but ten thousand dollars of what he had promised to
give, and that was in a building; thus, in this time of business depression,
the friends of the institution were compelled to lay their financial
foundations anew. The difficulties of the situation were extreme; but through
the faith and patience of Finney and his associates, they were able to hold on
until funds came in which were sufficient for the present need. A large part
of this help came from anti-slavery friends in England.

CHAPTER VI.

FINNEY AS AN EDUCATOR.

THE identification of Finney with the new
enterprise at Oberlin was in itself an education to the world. Oberlin was
henceforth to stand as the representative of those ideas and plans of work
which had crystallized around the free church movement in New York city, as it
had been fostered by Arthur Tappan and his associates, and as it was finally
embodied in the Broadway Tabernacle Congregational Church. The movement was
evangelical in its doctrinal basis, exalted in its conception of the
attainable standard of Christian life, comprehensive in its employment of
means and measures, and exacting in its demands upon all the activities of the
human soul. From this it will be seen that Oberlin was as far as possible from
being a place of one idea. The prominence which it at once attained as a
centre of anti-slavery influence has prevented many persons from seeing and
appreciating its equal or even greater prominence in other lines of activity.
Finney himself was never forward as an anti-slavery agitator, but was a
preacher of the gospel from first to last. Even writing and teaching were but
an episode in his career. Anti-slavery agitation was hardly even that. We look
in vain in his sermons for any formal discussion of the subject of slavery.
His references to it, both in his preaching and in his writing, were frequent
and forcible, indeed, but they were casual, and were brought in as
illustrations, rather than as his main proposition. But he was as fearless
upon this point as upon every other, and was openly and heartily in sympathy
with Arthur Tappan, and with the whole anti-slavery movement as represented by
the American and Foreign Anti-slavery Society, with which he and his
associates were connected.

The conditions respecting the admission
of colored students upon which Finney came to Oberlin were a lesson in
themselves, infinitely more important as a testimony to a principle than as a
practical means of accomplishing direct results. For at the time these
conditions were formulated and accepted, there were no negroes clamoring for
admission within college walls. One solitary colored student followed the Lane
Seminary protestants to Oberlin.(35)
"Others soon came, but not in large numbers. From 1840 to 1860 the
proportion of colored students was four or five per cent. Soon after the war
the ratio rose to seven or eight per cent, but fell again to three or four
percent. No adaptation of the course of study to the special needs of colored
pupils was ever made. It was not a colored school that was proposed, but a
school where colored students should have equal privileges with others."(36)

Nevertheless, the great end, so far as
bearing testimony against slavery and caste is concerned, was attained, and it
is difficult to overestimate the importance and extent of Oberlin's influence
upon the anti-slavery sentiment of the country. In view of the events leading
to the election of Lincoln, to the war, and to the abolition of slavery,
Finney was amply justified in saying that in that contest Oberlin "turned
the scale in all of the Northwest."(37)
Yet, as already remarked, Finney's part in this work was largely incidental,
as he himself and Arthur Tappan expected and intended it should be. Tappan had
written to him: "I do not want you to spread an abolition flag, but carry
out your design of receiving colored students upon the same conditions that
you do white students; and see that the work be not taken out of the hands of
the faculty, and spoiled by the trustees, as was the case at Lane Seminary. .
Just let it be known that you thus receive students, and work your own way on,
the best you can. Go and put up your building as fast as possible, and for
whatever deficiency of funds there may be, after making efforts through your
agents, you may draw on me, and I will honor your drafts to the extent of my
income from year to year."(38)
The year 1835 is conspicuous in the history of the anti-slavery struggle. On
July 29th, when the United States mail-boat from New York reached Charleston,
S. C., it was announced by the papers that the mail contained much incendiary
literature for circulation throughout the South, and a call was made upon the
people to take effectual measures to prevent its reaching its destination.
This incendiary literature consisted chiefly of copies of "The
Emancipator," "The Anti-slavery Record," and "The Slave's
Friend," addressed to respectable free citizens, and really contained
nothing contrary to the Constitution and laws of the United States, or
designed to incite insurrection among the Southern slaves. In all cases, the
address was, not to the slave, but to the master. Nevertheless, such was the
excitement that an attack was made upon the post-office by a mob, and the
postmaster took upon himself the responsibility of separating the proscribed
newspapers and pamphlets from the rest of the mail, and of surrendering them
for destruction. They were accordingly taken out upon the parade ground in
front of the citadel, and burned to ashes in the presence of an immense crowd.
This was at eight o'clock in the evening. "The effigies of Arthur Tappan,
Dr. Cox, and W. L. Garrison were at the same time suspended. At nine o'clock
the balloon was let off, and the effigies were consumed by the neck, with the
offensive documents at their feet."(39)
Upon the 3d of August, a committee of twenty-one, composed of prominent
citizens, with ex-Senator Hayne at their head, were appointed to take charge
of the United States mail. Meantime, the postmaster-general at Washington,
Amos Kendall, was asked to sanction the course pursued. He replied that, as
postmaster-general, he had no legal authority to exclude any species of
newspapers, magazines, or pamphlets, and that any letter of his directing or
sanctioning such exclusion would be void, and would not relieve them from
responsibility. At the same time he had no hesitation in saying that he was
deterred from giving the order only by want of legal power, and that, if he
were situated as they were, he would do as they had done, adding: "As a
measure of public necessity, therefore, you and the other postmasters who have
assumed the responsibility of stopping these inflammatory papers will, I have
no doubt, stand justified in that step before your country and all
mankind;" whereupon he argues that it is extremely doubtful if the state
laws prohibiting the circulation of such literature would not protect
postmasters and mail-carriers at the South from indictment by the United
States government for interference in such cases with the freedom of the
mails.

Soon after this, President Jackson, in
his Annual Message to Congress, recommended "the passing of such a law as
will prohibit, under severe penalties, the circulation in the Southern States,
through the mail, of incendiary publications intended to instigate the slaves
to insurrection." A bill was accordingly introduced by Calhoun to
accomplish the result, in defending which he says that in issuing these
incendiary documents the abolitionists were not waging war so much against the
lives of the slaveholders as against their character; and the editor of the
"United States Telegraph" averred that what they had to fear from
this abolition excitement was, not a servile war, but a discussion which would
alarm the consciences of the weak and feeble among the slaveholders
themselves, and diffuse among them a morbid sensibility on the question of
slavery. In view of this state of feeling, and with the tacit approval of the
postmaster-general, the postmaster of the city of New York took upon himself
the responsibility of stopping all the publications of the American
Antislavery Society mailed to persons residing in slave States, whether sent
gratuitously or to regular subscribers.(40)

About the same time a reward of $20,000 was
offered for the delivery of Arthur Tappan upon the levee at New Orleans.
During July, also, Amos Dresser, a Lane Seminary student and an inoffensive
colporteur, was arrested at Nashville, Tenn., for selling a copy of Rankin's
"Letters on Slavery," and for having in his possession copies of
"The Anti-slavery Record" and of "The Emancipator" wrapped
around copies of the Cottage Bible which he was selling. After an informal
trial before a committee, - two of whom were preachers, and seven of whom were
elders in the Presbyterian Church, - he was publicly flogged before a great
crowd of excited people, and forced to leave the city upon the following day,
also to suffer the loss of nearly all of the three hundred dollars' worth of
books in his possession, which he was compelled to leave behind. Naturally
Dresser came with the rest of the Lane Seminary students to Oberlin, and was
himself a most instructive object-lesson.

Close upon these events came mobs thick
and fast in various portions of the country. A call was issued for the
formation of a State Anti-slavery Society in Utica, New York, on October 21st.
Immediately the press began to thunder its anathemas upon the approaching
meeting. Flaming handbills called the citizens of Utica together on the 8th of
October, for the purpose of expressing their sentiments in anticipation of the
meeting. This gathering was addressed by eminent men, - one of whom amid
cheers declared that the calling of an abolition convention at Utica was
"intended to degrade the character of the city in the esteem of the
world, and to insult us to our faces. . . . We are to be picked out as the
headquarters of Abolitionism in the State of New York. Rather than to have
this, I would almost as soon see the city swept from the face of the earth, or
sunk as low as Sodom and Gomorrah. Nothing is due to these men if they come
here."(41)
On the 17th of October, there was another assembly convened to express
hostility to the approaching meeting, when, though a majority of the common
council had granted permission for the holding of the abolition convention on
the 21st, it was resolved that the people would "not submit to the
indignity of an abolition assemblage being held in a public building of the
city, reared as this was by the contributions of its citizens, and designed to
be used for salutary public objects and not as the receptacle for deluded
fanatics or reckless incendiaries." This assembly adjourned to meet at
the same place, day, and hour appointed for the anti-slavery convention.

When the delegates of the anti-slavery
convention gathered in Utica on the 21st, they found the court-room, where
they were to meet, in the possession of the "peaceable citizens" who
had determined by the above mentioned means to frustrate the ends of the
convention. The delegates, however, quietly retired and assembled in the
Bleecker Street church. When they had proceeded so far as to complete their
organization and to adopt a constitution, the transactions were brought to a
sudden close by the arrival of a committee of twenty-five from the other
meeting, who, with a great number of followers, crowded into the church and
interrupted the business by a peremptory call for adjournment. At this, such
an uproar was raised that it was impossible to proceed, and the convention
adjourned; whereupon the mob went to the hotels and demanded the expulsion of
the abolition delegates. As these were departing, their carriage wheels were
held by the mob, and volleys of blasphemous oaths were poured out upon their
heads. Not content with this, the mob, proceeded to the printing-office of the
"Standard and Democrat," which had favored the convention, and
sacked the building, throwing the type into the street.

On the same day, similar but even more
revolting scenes were occurring in Boston. The Boston Female Anti-slavery
Society was to have held a meeting on the 14th of October in Congress Hall, to
be addressed by the celebrated English reformer, George Thompson. All the
other halls and chapels had been refused, and upon perceiving the excited
condition of the public, the owner of this refused his consent the day before
the meeting, and the papers were full of inflammatory articles approving of
any measures which should prevent Mr. Thompson's address. The ladies, nothing
daunted, advertised a meeting for the 21st at the office of William Lloyd
Garrison's paper, the "Liberator," No. 46 Washington Street. But
Thompson's name was not mentioned in connection with the address, and, indeed,
the ladies had determined not to have him present.

On the morning of the 21st, a handbill
was extensively circulated through the city, announcing that, as "the
infamous foreign scoundrel Thompson will hold forth this afternoon at the
'Liberator' office, No. 46 Washington Street, the present is a fair
opportunity for the friends of the Union to snake Thompson out," and a
purse of one hundred dollars was offered to the first one who should lay hands
on him and bring him to the tar-kettle before dark. In response to this, about
two thousand "highly respectable gentlemen" assembled in the
vicinity of the "Liberator" office, and crowded all of the passages
to it, shouting, "Hurrah for Judge Lynch!" The mayor entered, and
begged the women to go home, as he could not protect them. Garrison had been
in and had offered to address them, as he had often done before, but was
advised not to do so now, and he had therefore withdrawn and secreted himself
in a shop near by. But he was hunted out by the mob, his clothes were nearly
torn from his body, and a rope was put around him preparatory to leading him
to the Common, with the intention of giving him a coat of tar and feathers,
and of ducking him in the Frogpond. But on the way he was intercepted by the
mayor, who, to preserve Garrison's life, put him into a cab, in which he was
hastily driven through the city and thrust into the jail, where he was kept
over night. Upon the following day, he was privately taken out of the city, so
as to prevent further disturbance.(42)
But the meeting of the Female Anti-slavery Society was not prevented. The
ladies met soon after in a private house, and the anti-slavery excitement,
instead of being abated, was fanned to a flame by the action of the mob.

On this very day, also, Samuel J. May, whose
assistance to Miss Crandall in Connecticut has already been referred to, while
attempting to address a meeting in Montpelier, Vt., was unceremoniously
interrupted by a mob of leading citizens.

It was in July of this same year that James G.
Birney, subsequently the abolition candidate for the presidency, who a short
time previously had emancipated his slaves in Kentucky, was driven from his
home to New Richmond, Ohio, where he began the publication of a paper called
the "Philanthropist," devoted to the subject of immediate
emancipation. Upon removing to Cincinnati a few months later, he was waited
upon by a committee of thirteen, having at its head a lawyer of eminence who
had been Judge of the Supreme Court of Ohio and United States Senator, and was
warned to desist from the further publication of his paper, under threat of a
mob which would endanger both his life and his property. On the evening of the
following day, when it was seen that he did not comply with this request, the
mob gathered, and, not finding Mr. Birney at his home, wreaked their vengeance
upon various houses of poor colored people, then pillaged the office,
scattered the type, and broke the press and threw it into the river.

Such were a few of the exciting scenes which
marked the year 1835, during which Oberlin opened its doors to colored
students, and Finney began his work there through the aid and support of
Arthur Tappan. The advocacy of immediate abolition was freely spoken of as
treason against the government, and, to cap the climax, the Abolitionists were
denounced as "vilifiers of the good name of George Washington," who
had lived and died a slaveholder.

The protesting students from Lane Seminary
took up their quarters in Slab Hall, at Oberlin, in the summer. As the winter
vacation approached, they, with others who had joined them in coming to
Oberlin, added fuel to the flame of excited public sentiment by devoting the
long winter vacation to lecturing upon the subject of slavery.

Under the auspices of the American
Anti-slavery Society, of which Tappan was president, the larger part of them
went throughout Ohio and portions of Pennsylvania, and did their utmost to
expose the horrors of the American system of slavery. Everywhere the greatest
interest was aroused. Friends rallied around them and cheered them by their
sympathy, while enemies resorted to every device to harass, oppose, and
discredit them.

These were times when there was special danger
of alienation between the advocates of the anti-slavery reform and the leaders
of evangelical thought and action. The influences were actively at work which
led eventually to the dismemberment of the American Anti-slavery Society on
lines which set its advanced members in antagonism to the churches of the
land, and led to the formation, in 1840, upon a distinctively Christian basis,
of the American and Foreign Anti-slavery Society, of which Arthur Tappan,
again, was chosen president. It is difficult to overestimate the importance of
Finney's influence through the agency of Oberlin in maintaining this alliance
between evangelical Christianity and the anti-slavery movement, though, as has
been remarked, Finney himself said comparatively little upon the subject.
Occasionally he appeared and spoke at the anniversaries of the Anti-slavery
Society; sometimes also he participated in the political meetings held in
Oberlin, when distinguished speakers from abroad were present to make
addresses, and always to the astonishment and delight of these visitors and
the vast audiences assembled. It is related that upon one such occasion, after
John P. Hale and Joshua R. Giddings had made their most effective addresses,
Finney followed with a speech so comprehensive, logical, forcible, and
eloquent as entirely to eclipse those of the great statesmen. But in the
position occupied by Finney, he did not need to speak often, or to say much
upon the subject. The Lane Seminary students were full enough probably too
full of anti-slavery zeal. Finney, while not holding them back by any direct
efforts, felt the importance of preserving the balance of forces, and devoted
his main strength to supplying their lack, and to developing in them an
adequate appreciation of the Central themes of the gospel, which give motive
power and direction to every well-chosen effort at reform.

His position can be inferred from a sermon
upon the relation of Christ to the believer, reported in the "Oberlin
Evangelist," July 30, 1845, in which he inveighs with his characteristic
force of utterance against the folly of making science and politics a
substitute for Christ in preaching. It would seem that one of the theological
students had been out lecturing on mesmerism and phrenology. At thought of
this he exclaims, "Alas, I cannot tell you how much my soul has been
agonized to think that there could be a theological student here who could do
this! Oh, let him only be full of Christ, and he will lecture on something
very different from mesmerism and phrenology. Let all these young men be
filled with Christ, and this institution can shake the world." In still
another paragraph he declares in the strongest terms that young men with their
souls filled with the love of Christ will not go about lecturing on politics,
and telling people how to vote for president.

So much misunderstanding was occasioned by a
report of this sermon that, a few weeks later, Finney took pains to define his
position in a letter, in which he says that his lectures on pastoral theology
amply show that he is not opposed to sermons on politics at the proper time;
that every department of human conduct is to come under review in the pulpit,
and in its place be made the subject of discussion. But he maintains that
"care should always be taken to put and keep the gospel right end
foremost, so to speak; that is, that the truths of fundamental importance
should always have the greatest prominence. . . . The thing which seems to me
wise in ministers, in regard to their public teaching upon the subject of
politics, is to hold forth in their public praying and preaching incidentally
and by way of inference and remark, on almost all occasions, enough to keep
the people's minds informed on all important points, and then it will never be
necessary for them to leave their congregations or turn aside and give
themselves up wholly to preaching and lecturing upon politics, on the Sabbath
or on any other day."

As may be surmised, Finney came to Oberlin
without a formulated system of theology in his mind. Guided largely by his own
deep experience and diligent study of the Bible, and stimulated by the various
emergencies of his revival efforts, however, he had firmly seized hold of the
salient and central themes of the evangelical system. The character of his
labors had naturally brought him into sympathy with what were called the New
School Presbyterians of that day, and, up to a short time previous to his
coming to Oberlin, his ministerial standing was in the Presbyterian Church.
His transfer to the Congregationalists was not owing to any change in
doctrine, but was due simply to his views respecting the mode of church
government. The commencement of his teaching in Oberlin was the commencement,
also, of his systematic study of theology.

In the class-room he identified himself with
his pupils as himself a learner, seeking not only for the truth as it was
generally formulated, but for its best statement and its most satisfactory
foundation and defense. His method, therefore, was largely analytic and
inductive. He set his students at work, much according to the modern so called
"seminary method," to originate statements of doctrines and truths
for themselves, after careful reading and study. These they would bring in to
the class to serve as the basis for criticism and discussion.

From all accounts it would seem that he
was a most inspiring teacher, and secured in his pupils a definiteness of
opinion and a self-reliance rarely equaled in the class-room. One of his
earliest pupils thus describes his methods: "A theme was assigned to each
one, on which, after due preparation, he must discourse, and then 'be picked.'
It set us all to thinking. The theme that at one time was given to me was
Imputation, a doctrine which was then much discussed; and I well remember how
I stood for three days and was questioned."(43)
Another of this first class in Oberlin says: "Coming as I did from the
statelier ways of New England, it was some time before I could make it seem
natural to address him simply as 'Brother Finney.' . . . With all this freedom
of intercourse, however, I do not remember any abuse of it on the part of his
pupils, any impertinence of speech or manner. There was so much of true
dignity in him, that he must be a very boorish or reckless person who could
treat him otherwise than with the utmost respect."(44)

Finney was very careful to give due credit to
the students for any original statements of the truth which they might have
devised. One of those early students relates how Finney came to his room one
morning and waked him up, to inform him that he - the student - had been
correct the previous day, and himself wrong, in the statement of some
intricate theological proposition.

There was such naturalness about all this,
that the simplicity of Finney's heart, as well as the strength of his mind,
made a great impression upon the students. In their contact with him in those
early days of his teaching, they seemed, as it were, to have an insight into
the inner recesses of his heart, and beheld the interior processes of his
thought. A member of the class relates that when Finney lectured to them upon
the subject of the atonement, so vivid was the presentation that, before they
knew it, all found themselves in tears, with their pencils motionless in their
hands. A member of the first class in theology, which graduated in 1836,
relates that at the close of the last term, when Finney came into the
class-room and looked around upon its members, his eyes filled with tears as
he began to offer the opening prayer. But instead of the brief sentences which
ordinarily sufficed, his prayer was prolonged for half an hour, and then, as
there was no disposition on the part of the class to rise from their knees,
the whole hour was spent in devotion.

One of the class of 1838 records, also,
that one morning, as the members were drawing toward the close of their
course, and at the time when suspicion and detraction were most busy in
opposition to Finney's influence, he began the introductory devotional
services of the hour with nothing uncommon in his manner and words, but soon
the great deep of his heart was broken up, and he poured out a mighty stream
of supplication for the class, for his former co-laborers, for those whom he
had won to Christ, for the ministry, for the church bought with Jesus' blood,
and for a lost world. Sometimes he seemed to be leading us; again he seemed to
be alone with God. . . . We remained on our knees a whole hour, and then rose
and went silently to our rooms."(45)

But in Oberlin Finney was still pre-eminently
a preacher rather than a teacher, and, indeed, no small part of his teaching
was done in the pulpit. From the beginning, it was the custom at Oberlin to
have a sermon on Thursday afternoon in addition to those upon the Sabbath.
This custom was maintained as long as Finney was living. He was ordinarily the
preacher, and his preaching was always more or less didactic. It was in his
sermons upon the Sabbath, and upon Thursday afternoons, that one would hear
his most complete and effective presentation of the great themes of the
gospel, and his pupils ever prized these occasions as an indispensable
supplement to their class-room exercises. It was through these means, in fact,
that his influence became most extended among the vast body of pupils gathered
at Oberlin. So prominent was the doctrinal element in his preaching, and so
completely did he illustrate, in his own example, the definition sometimes
given of true eloquence as "logic on fire," that scarcely any of the
twenty thousand students who from time to time came statedly under his
ministrations failed to get the salient points of his theology.

The importance of this feature of his
work was always fully appreciated by Finney. The theological classes
constituted small part of the attractions of the field for him; but the great
concourse of students in the literary departments constantly furnished him
fresh, popular audiences, which he could indoctrinate in the great principles
of theology, so that the whole period of his life at Oberlin was permitted to
be almost one prolonged revival effort. The attendance of students increased
from two hundred at the beginning of his labors in 1835, to five hundred, in
1840, to more than a thousand in 1850, and to an average of from twelve to
fourteen hundred a little later. Mainly through Finney's reputation, also, the
attendance had a cosmopolitan character unexcelled at any other school. As an
illustration of this, it is on record that, while waiting in London in 1839 to
set out upon his first missionary appointment, Livingstone forwarded his first
quarter's salary to a younger brother in Scotland, urging him to take the
money and go to Oberlin for an education.(46)
The advice was followed, and his brother graduated at Oberlin in 1845.

The church and congregation increased to such
a degree that in 1859 it was necessary, from mere lack of room, to form a
second church. In 1845, a commodious church building had been erected, after
the plan of the original Broadway Tabernacle, seating fifteen hundred. From
that time on to the period just mentioned, it was the only church in the
place, and the house was uniformly packed with eager listeners. Its membership
had then reached about twelve hundred. To a remarkable extent, the church and
community were kept united under Finney's preaching, and no serious divisions
ever arose. For many years there was no lawyer in the place. Practically all
the questions involving legal rights were settled by the pastor. Nearly all
the people were church-members, and when there was a quarrel he always advised
the parties to come to him, and tell their grounds of complaint, before either
taking them to the church or going into court. This was of course a purely
voluntary matter; but such was the confidence in him, and so judicious was his
advice, that every case of variance for many years was settled in this
informal manner. Finney would hear the respective stories of the aggrieved
parties alone, and then, after questioning and cross-questioning them, would
be able to give them advice which, from his legal knowledge and great
practical sense, was sure to carry conviction by the very weight of the reason
there was in it.

An account of Finney's theological system, and
of the theological controversies in which he was engaged, will be given in a
separate chapter. But it is in place here to speak of the channels through
which the centres of public thought outside of Oberlin were reached. Finney
came to Oberlin in the prime of life; and though he had been preaching but
twelve years, so remarkable had been his career that many thousands of the
most active members of the Presbyterian and Congregational churches in New
York and New England had been converted under his ministry. Naturally, these
now looked to Oberlin for further instruction and guidance. It was this class
that rallied to the support of the "New York Evangelist" when it
published Finney's revival lectures in 1834, and later his sermons preached in
the Broadway Tabernacle to professing Christians. It was the same body of
persons, also, that gave such wide circulation to various sermons published
earlier, first in pamphlet form and afterwards in a collection entitled
"Sermons on Important Subjects."

But as his system of theology took on more and
more definite shape in connection with his class instruction, it was deemed
best to establish a paper at Oberlin through which he could more directly and
regularly reach the public interested in him and in his views. For this
purpose, therefore, a bi-weekly periodical, entitled the "Oberlin
Evangelist," was established at the beginning of 1839, and was maintained
for the next twenty-four years. This was strictly a religious paper, and its
leading feature during nearly all that period was a sermon or lecture by Mr.
Finney. Usually, in addition to this, there was a letter or communication from
him, discussing at length some other practical or doctrinal themes. Nearly
everything afterwards published in book form appeared first in this paper.
There was also much besides which has never been republished. As one turns
over the pages of this unpretentious periodical, he is astonished at the
amount and the high character of the communications. The circulation of the
paper at once reached the number of five thousand, which for that period was
large, and its influence in extending a knowledge of his views cannot be
overestimated.

Finney's call to Oberlin in 1835 was to the
professorship of theology, and this was the chair he held for the following
sixteen years. But on the resignation of President Mahan in 1851, Finney was
elected his successor, retiring from this position in 1866 only on account of
advanced age. His election to the presidency, however, had little effect upon
the range of duties to which he attended; for he never devoted much thought to
the executive details of that office, but continued, as before, to give his
energies to the theological lectures and to preaching. From this it is
apparent that the success of the educational work at Oberlin was not solely
dependent upon Finney, but was in large part due to a happy combination, in
the faculty, of men diverse in character but harmonious in sentiment. A word
is necessary, therefore, concerning these coadjutors.

Asa Mahan, who occupied the presidential chair
for the first fifteen years, possessed many rare qualities for the position:
he was a commanding preacher, a devoted student of philosophy, thoroughly in
sympathy with the principles upon which Oberlin was founded, and a man of
great independence of character and action.

John Morgan, who, as we have seen, was
instructor at Lane Seminary, and incurred the censure of the trustees for his
sympathy with the Lane Seminary protestants, was appointed professor of New
Testament language and literature in 1835, and was a lifelong and most
intimate associate of Finney, holding his chair until 1881. Morgan was a man
of rare linguistic acquirements, and of a temperament the direct opposite of
Finney, and the two men constantly needed each other to supply their mutual
deficiencies. Finney always deferred to Morgan for the settlement of critical
points respecting biblical interpretation. The two men came to see the truth
as with a single eye, and were so much together that they will always be
associated in the minds of the students of that period. Finney came to feel
almost lost if he was in the pulpit without Morgan to assist in some part of
the service; and when Finney was unable to preach, there was no one else so
well fitted to supply the place as Morgan.

Henry Cowles was another of Finney's lifelong
associates at Oberlin, being at first professor of the Greek and Latin
languages in 1835, then of ecclesiastical history in 1838, and of Old
Testament language and literature in 1840, and finally lecturer on prophecy
from 1869 to 1881. Cowles was one of the most frequent contributors to the
"Oberlin Evangelist" from the beginning, and subsequently became its
editor. A large part of the sermons and lectures of Finney published in the
"Evangelist" were reported by Cowles, and later in life he published
an important commentary on nearly the whole Bible.

James H. Fairchild was one of the first
students at Oberlin. He joined the institution in 1834, graduating from the
college in 1838 and from the theological seminary in 1841. In 1842, he became
professor of Greek and Latin and teacher of Hebrew. In 1847, he was elected
professor of mathematics and natural philosophy. In 1858, he succeeded Finney
in the chair of theology, and in 1866, as president of the institution.

James Dascomb, professor of chemistry, botany,
and physiology, was upon the ground when Finney came to Oberlin, having
entered upon his duties in 1834. He was a graduate of the medical school of
Dartmouth College. As an instructor, he was very methodical and thorough, and,
while in full sympathy with the spirit that animated the founders of Oberlin,
he was by nature cautious and conservative. He occupied his professorship for
a period of forty-four years. His wife was also an important factor in
securing the successful inauguration and maintenance of the system of the
coeducation of the sexes, being for twenty years principal of the ladies'
department; during the whole period of her husband's professorship, she was
also an influential member of the Ladies' Board, a body upon which comes the
responsibility of managing the discipline in the ladies' department.

These six, - Finney, Mahan, Morgan, Cowles,
Fairchild, and Dascomb, - differing in personal qualifications as much as
possible, but entirely harmonious in their aims, are the ones who have given
such remarkable continuity and character to the educational movement at
Oberlin. It is no derogation of Finney to say that his work at Oberlin would
have been impossible without the co-operation of these men, not to mention
various other influences represented in the movement. But it is one of the
highest excellences of the man that he could co-operate with such men. Marked
as were the characteristics of his genius, and pre-eminent as were his
abilities, he had a just sense of his own natural limitations, and could learn
from the wisdom of others, and gracefully yield to the decision of the
majority in minor matters.

When Finney had formulated his system of
theology, his views upon the subject of entire sanctification became the
object of sharp criticism, so sharp, indeed, that the phrase "Oberlin
Perfectionist" became throughout the country almost as odious as
"Oberlin Abolitionist." Deferring to a later chapter the exposition
of Finney's views upon this subject, it is appropriate to remark here upon
some of the incidental influences of the doctrine in shaping the course of
things in the institution and community. The real gist of this doctrine
consisted in magnifying at the same time the duty of entire consecration to
God and the grace of Christ as an aid to the attainment of that standard of
duty. It in no sense involved a letting down of the standard. It became,
therefore, a characteristic of Finney's preaching to analyze human actions
very minutely, and to apply his high conception of duty to every form of human
activity.

As a natural result of this process, he ran
the risk of making some erroneous applications of the law of duty. In the
intensity of his convictions, he was likely for the moment to attach
inordinate importance to the subjects temporarily in mind. That he was fully
aware of the hazard of this process is evident from some passages in his own
sermons; for example, in an address given at the ordination of fourteen young
men, August 22, 1842, he thus speaks of the dangers attending those who act as
agents of benevolent societies: "But I have long been persuaded
that it is a very serious thing for a minister to leave the direct work of
preaching the whole gospel for the purpose of engaging in an agency that will
confine him almost exclusively to some one department of religious truth. One
of the evils of such a course is to beget in his mind a monstrous development
of that particular truth. He soon loses the symmetry and proportion of a
Christian man; becomes too much a man of one idea; loses sight, in a great
measure, of other branches of reform; and is in danger of becoming censorious
towards all others in whose minds there is not the same monstrous development
of that particular truth. This is a dangerous state of mind, exceedingly
injurious to his own piety and usefulness, and dangerous to the church of God.
Such men are found not infrequently to be loudly denunciatory in respect to
all Christians and ministers who are not swallowed up, as they are, in that
particular branch of reform. They go up and down through the churches
lecturing, making their particular topic a test question, and measuring
everything and everybody by the importance they attach to the particular
branch of reform in which they are engaged. To them it appears that nobody
else is doing any good, that nothing else is at the present time of much
importance, and that little or nothing can be done for the salvation of the
world until that particular branch of reform is perfected. These brethren seem
not at all aware of the state of mind in which they are. They seem not to
consider that they have so long dwelt upon the hearings and influence of one
branch of reform, that it has in their mind grown out of all proportion as
compared with other branches of Christian reform. I beseech you, brethren,
take heed lest you come to be among the number of those of whom I am speaking.

"Do not understand me as speaking
against agencies or agents, for no doubt these agencies need to be prosecuted.
But I would earnestly warn you against being drawn away from the whole work of
the ministry to engage in them, without a manifest call from God. And if you
should be called to engage in them, I beseech and warn you to be on your guard
against the tendencies of which I have been speaking. Without being at all
aware of it, many of the lecturers of different societies have diffused a very
unhappy spirit through the churches, and wherever they go they seem to plant a
root of bitterness, and to get up a kind of faction, and to embitter the minds
of certain classes of professors of religion against the church in general and
the ministry, and, in short, against all who have not a single eye to that
particular department of reform."(47)

Finney and Tappan were agreed in their
advocacy of total abstinence from spirituous liquors, and in their opposition
to the use of tobacco. Of their positions upon these questions they never had
occasion to repent; but on coming to Oberlin, Finney, in the line of portions
of the original Oberlin Covenant, went to the extreme of opposing tea and
coffee with somewhat the same vehemence that he opposed alcohol and tobacco.
We find in the "New York Evangelist" for August 29, 1835, an account
of a lecture upon temperance given by Finney at Oberlin, soon after his first
arrival, in which the principles of total abstinence were applied to tea and
coffee in connection with other stimulants; and it is said that, as a result,
tea and coffee were swept from almost every table in the community.
Occasionally, also, in his sermons and in his letters upon various subjects,
we find the strongest language used in reprehension of these mild stimulants,
and of over-eating in general. Yet it is just to Finney and his associates at
Oberlin to say that they never enforced upon others any laws regulating diet,
except in the matter of prohibiting to the students the use of alcohol and
tobacco, - prohibitions which the authorities have seen no reason to remove in
the advancing development of the school.

It should also be borne in mind that
that was a period when extravagant views upon the subject of dietetics
prevailed almost everywhere. President Hitchcock, of Amherst College,
published a book upon the subject, and went as far in formulating rules for
eating and drinking as anybody at Oberlin ever thought of doing. Nor can it be
said that any evil results to health followed from the abstemious diet during
the early years of Oberlin. The health of the place was then remarkably good,
and the intellectual work performed on the part of teachers and students was
of a high order. During the first eight years, the death rate at Oberlin was
only five to the thousand, though the people lived under all the disadvantages
to health connected with a freshly cleared opening in a dense forest, in a
level and rather poorly drained clay soil. Dr. Hodge and others, with some
good reason, made merry of the strength with which Finney indorsed the
dietetic views of Dr. Graham; but a little later Finney came to the conviction
that he was in error upon these points, and had the frankness to say so in one
of his published letters.(48)

The range of subjects to which Finney applied
the great law of benevolence, and the minuteness of the application, was
specially observable in his lectures on pastoral theology, which, because of
the general desire to hear them, were usually given in one of the public
halls. Though repeated periodically, they were never the same, being adapted
in all cases to present emergencies. Many of these lectures were little else
than the enforcement of the ordinary laws of good behavior and politeness,
which, in the vivid light of his logic, seem to be essential constituents of
the great law of benevolence. He did not deem it beneath his position to
charge his pupils with the duty of keeping their nails clean and their clothes
tidy; of sitting straight in their chairs, when in company, without tipping
them back upon two legs; and so of the whole range of matters pertaining to
good behavior. Fault was sometimes found with these instructions as being
needless, because relating to things of which every one knows the propriety by
nature; but Finney was probably wiser than his critics, and took the very best
course to complete a much needed and neglected part of the education of no
small portion of those who study for the ministry. He himself overlooked
nothing because it was small, but was scrupulous in his own dress and
behavior, and in everything showed the instincts and had the carriage of a
gentleman. His public conduct in all these respects was itself an education to
the school and the community.

Finney's doctrine of sanctification thus
led him sooner or later to the discussion of almost every practical question,
and to the consideration of almost every concrete form of sin. In one of his
sermons on a seared conscience, which contained ninety-five subdivisions,
describing the indications of that deplorable condition of mind, he laments
the little pains taken in theological seminaries to quicken the consciences
and sanctify the hearts of the candidates for the ministry. "Why, beloved
brethren," he exclaims, "unless there is more conscience in the
Christian ministry, - a broader, deeper, more efficient and practical
knowledge of the claims of the law of God, . . . a greater abhorrence of every
form of sin, a more insupportable agony in view of its existence in every form
and in every degree, - the world, and the church too, will sink down to hell
under our administration."(49)

Finney would have the consciences of men so
tender that they would feel an unutterable horror at the thought of committing
the least sin against God or man. When properly educated, he avers, the
conscience of the believer is so thoroughly awake "that the thought of
sinning is to him as terrible as death, so that conscience will roll a wave of
unutterable pain across his mind, and weigh him down with agony at every step
he takes in sin." It will "agonize his soul, to a degree that will
cause the perspiration to pour out from his body almost in streams, to fall
into the slightest sin."

In a second sermon upon the same
subject, we find eighty-four additional specifications of the ways in which
the conscience becomes seared. Among the evidences mentioned is apathy
concerning various questions of moral reform. Our consciences are seared, he
goes on to say, when questions that concern our own well-being, or the
well-being of others, are not regarded and treated as moral questions. For
example, when the abolition of slavery, temperance, moral reform, politics,
business principles, physiological and dietetic reform, - when these, I say,
are not treated as moral questions, and as imposing moral obligation, the
conscience must be in a seared state." Again, we find him saying,
"When you can trifle with your health; go out in the snow or wet with
thin shoes and hose, or in any way inappropriately clothed, unless you are
under the necessity of doing so, your conscience must be seared as with a hot
iron. When you can neglect to ventilate your room, see that you have not too
little or too much fire, - in short, when you can in any way trifle with your
health, that precious gift of God, without conviction of guilt, - your
conscience is alarmingly seared."(50)

He did not neglect to read his people a homily
in this connection upon the sin of habitually borrowing tools. We quote the
paragraph at length, as a characteristic specimen of his method of treating
concrete sins: -

"When you can be in the habit of
borrowing and using your neighbor's tools, without perceiving and feeling the
injurious tendency of such conduct, and without realizing the pernicious
principle upon which such a practice turns, it is because you have a seared
conscience. Many persons act as if they supposed that conscience had to do
with but one side of this question, - that it is the lender exclusively, and
not the borrower, who is to look to his conscience, and see that he does not
violate the principles of benevolence. But let us look at the principle
contained in this. If you borrow money of a man, you expect to pay him
interest, or at least to restore the same amount you borrow; but if you borrow
a man's coat or tools, that are injured by using, it is the lender and not the
borrower that has to pay the interest, and often a very high rate of interest,
too. Many a man has lost his tools, and paid at the rate of twenty-five per
cent. for the privilege of lending them. Now suppose a man has a hundred
dollars in money. Money is scarce, and a hundred men desire to borrow it,
every one in his turn. And now suppose each one should wear a dollar out of
it. The man's hundred dollars are soon used up. But suppose a man should come
to you and ask you to lend him money, and insist upon it that you should pay
him interest, instead of his paying you interest, and you should say,
"Why, I never heard of such a request! Do you ask me to lend you money
and pay you interest besides?' Now any man would be ashamed, and would have
reason to be ashamed, to make such a request; and his naked selfishness would
in such a case be most manifest to every one. And who would think of accusing
the lender of selfishness, in such a case, if he should refuse to let his
money go for nothing, pay interest besides, and finally take the trouble to go
after it? And yet this involves precisely the same principle upon which many
persons conduct, in the neighborhoods where they live, in continually
borrowing and using up their neighbors' tools, and perhaps compelling them to
go after them, and that, too, without compunction or remorse. Now, so far are
they from feeling compunction or remorse, and perceiving that they are
actuated by the most unpardonable selfishness, that they would complain, and
suppose themselves to have a right to complain, of the selfishness of a
neighbor who should refuse to indulge them in acting upon such principles.

"By this I do not mean to say or to
intimate that it is not proper and a duty, in certain cases, for neighbors to
borrow and use each other's tools. But this I do say, that the practice as
practiced is unjustifiable. Borrowing should not be resorted to, except in
cases where a man might, without any cause for blushing, ask a man to lend him
money, not only without interest, but also ask him to pay interest."(51)

With their opposition to slavery Tappan and
Finney of course included opposition to caste, though, so far as the colored
race was concerned, this by no means included amalgamation. During the riots
in New York city in July, 1834, Arthur Tappan had deemed it necessary to post
a handbill in different parts of the city, publishing in behalf of the
Anti-slavery Society the following declaration, signed by himself and John
Rankin: -

"1. We entirely disclaim any desire to
promote or encourage intermarriages between white and colored persons.

"2. We disclaim, and utterly disapprove,
the language of a handbill recently circulated in this city, the tendency of
which is thought to be to excite resistance to the laws. Our principle is,
that even hard laws are to be submitted to by all men, until they can by
peaceable means be altered.

"3. We disclaim, as we have already
done, any intention to dissolve the Union, or to violate the Constitution and
laws of the country; or to ask of Congress any act transcending their
constitutional powers, which the abolition of slavery by Congress, in any
State, would plainly do."(52)

The same principle which opposed the feeling
of caste led the founders of Oberlin also to throw the door open to young
women desiring a college education, and from the first they were admitted to
the college classes and granted the college degrees. The first women to
receive the degree of Bachelor of Arts were members of the college class of
1841. Being the only school where this privilege was allowed, Oberlin drew to
itself in its early days a remarkable company of high-minded, independent,
intellectual, and earnest young women, whose good behavior and vigorous
application at once made co-education not only a thing to be tolerated, but a
great and manifest success. Yet it is extremely doubtful if at that time it
could have been successful except in the high moral and religious atmosphere
that was secured throughout the community by Finney's presence and preaching.
It was largely through Finney's influence, also, that Oberlin was prevented
from running off into the general vagaries of a woman's rights movement.

From this summary of facts it becomes evident
that, when the crisis came, it was not by accident that Oberlin went with the
American and Foreign Anti-slavery Society under the lead of Arthur Tappan,
rather than with the American Anti-slavery Society under the lead of Garrison.

It is easy to criticise a man of such strong
and positive characteristics as Finney possessed; his very greatness exposes
him to misunderstanding by those who take only a partial view of his work. One
can readily collect from his numerous writings an indefinite number of
statements which, by themselves, seem to be absurd, and, when compared with
each other, contradictory. But when these are properly considered in
connection with the man's own marvelous personality, both the absurdity and
the contradiction will usually disappear, and nearly everything which he said
or did will be found to represent important aspects of the truth, and to have
been capable of being understood at the time. The very fact that he labored so
long and so harmoniously with his associates at Oberlin is itself an answer to
much of the criticism which has been passed upon him, and shows that he had
great breadth of mind, and a delicate appreciation of the work performed by
other men whose spheres differed from his own, and, finally, that devotion to
Christ was the paramount motive of his life.

CHAPTER VII.

THE THEOLOGIAN AND PHILOSOPHER.

Early Theological Predilections.

ACCORDING to the ordinary course of things, it
would seem in the highest degree preposterous for a man with Finney's
experience previous to 1835 to set about the task of restating the theology of
the church, and of reconstructing its underlying philosophy. For, as already
stated, the first Bible he owned was purchased as a law-book when he was
nearly thirty years old; while his conversion was of such an extraordinary
character as almost of necessity to thrust him into the work of preaching
without preliminary study. But it should be remembered that his knowledge of
practical affairs and his legal training, combined with the deep experience of
the gospel in connection with his conversion, made him a most apt student of
the Scriptures; and it is everywhere evident in his writings that he had
studied the Bible faithfully, and had obtained a thorough knowledge of its
teachings. The illumination of the Spirit which he sought upon his knees was
connected with the illumination reflected to his eyes from the book always
open before him. Moreover, his study of the Scriptures was for the practical
purposes of the hour, that he might meet the wants of the hungry souls to whom
from the first he was called upon to minister. In his pastor and first
instructor, Mr. Gale, also, he was associated with a man of no inferior
quality, whose influence was probably greater upon his mind than he ever
realized.

On coming to labor in the vicinity of
Rome and Utica, in the second year of his ministry, Finney was brought into
contact with ministers of New England training, in whose minds the theology of
Edwards and his successors was the dominating influence. It was in the house
of Rev. Dr. Aiken, of Utica, that he first read Edwards "On
Revivals," as well as other volumes by the same writer. Of these he
"often spoke with rapture," according to Dr. Aiken,(53)
who adds that Edwards "On Revivals" and Edwards "On the
Affections" were more read by his own family than any other book except
the Bible. Dr. Aiken thinks these books had a perceptible influence on Finney
in toning down the original harshness of his expressions in preaching. It was
about this time that Finney preached in Utica his celebrated sermon, above
referred to, upon the text, "Can two walk together except they be
agreed" And this sermon certainly shows many indubitable marks of
Edwards's influence.

Upon going from Utica to Troy, in the winter
of 1827, Finney became acquainted with Rev. N. S. S. Beman, whose influence,
as already remarked, was making itself powerfully felt in the liberalizing
movement which ended in the disruption of the Presbyterian Church ten years
later. It is instructive to notice that Beman's published opinions on the
atonement coincided closely with those which Finney himself subsequently
wrought out.

When, a little later, Finney went to New
York, and came in contact with the Tappans, he was brought into the circle of
influences then radiating from Dr. Taylor, of New Haven, who was then the
great advocate of the self-determining power of the human will. Yale Divinity
School was established in 1822. While gathering funds for this, Beecher and
Taylor made the house of Arthur Tappan their headquarters when in New York.
Just how much association Finney had with Taylor cannot now be directly
ascertained; but it is related(54)
by the late Rev. George Clark that, previous to 1836, he was present at New
Haven at an interview between Finney and Taylor, and listened with rapt
attention to these two as they discussed great theological questions.

Finney's first labors in Boston also brought
him into close contact with the theological speculations of the New England
divines. His sermon in that city in 1831, upon the duty of sinners to change
their own hearts, provoked most lively discussion. Rev. Asa Rand took notes,
and severely criticised it in "The Volunteer," a paper started in
Boston, and edited by him, for the express purpose of counteracting the new
measures coming into use for the promotion of revivals. His strictures were
soon afterwards enlarged, and published in a pamphlet, which called out
answers from various quarters; these, in turn, led to a rejoinder in another
pamphlet by Rand. The most important publication which appeared in defense of
Finney's views was an anonymous pamphlet attributed afterwards to Rev. Dr.
Wisner, pastor of the Old South Church, Boston. The two theological parties
then dividing New England were respectively called '"Tasters" and
"Exercise Men." The Tasters were best represented by Asa Burton, of
Thetford, Vt., who in his quiet parish had trained a large number of
ministers, and by his writings had profoundly affected the thought of his
time. His views were essentially those of the Old School Calvinists, since he
maintained that there must be a radical change in the tastes of the soul
before it could choose holiness. In this view, regeneration is regarded not as
coetaneous with conversion, but as preceding it. As before intimated, the
exhortation to sinners naturally connected with this belief is, not that they
should repent, but that they should read the Bible, attend the means of grace,
and wait upon the Lord till He should change their affections and "give
them a relish" for holiness.

The Exercise scheme was that advocated by
Nathaniel Emmons, also a country pastor, in whose house a still larger number
of ministers had been trained. According to this, regeneration and conversion
are coetaneous, and the sinner is called upon, in view of the light he has, to
exercise his native powers in repentance and faith. In the anonymous pamphlet
just referred to, it was shown that Finney's teaching upon this point was
closely allied to that of Emmons, and much learning was displayed in proving,
also, that these views had always been prevalent in the church, and had always
been recognized as orthodox.

Thus, before coming to Oberlin, Finney was
thoroughly identified with the New School Calvinisin of the times. On entering
his new field, and setting about the task of systematizing his belief so as to
impart it to his pupils, he found himself still further aided in the
formulation of the New School position, both by his associate teachers and by
his pupils. Professors John and Henry Cowles were fresh from the classes of N.
W. Taylor at New Haven; while Professor Morgan, during his college course and
in connection with Mark Hopkins, had sat in the classes and under the
preaching of President Griffin, of Williams College, and, later, had come
under the private instruction of pastors in New York city and of Beecher in
Lane Seminary, and had acquired full knowledge of the New School position.
President Mahan was an Andover graduate. The students, also, were by no means
deficient in theological ideas and predilections, but were all of them young
men of remarkable independence of thought, who demanded to know the reason of
the faith they were to preach. The main parts of the system wrought out by
Finney under these influences we will now detail.

Views of Inspiration.

At the close of his first five years at
Oberlin, Finney printed for class use an important volume, of two hundred and
forty-eight octavo pages, containing the skeletons of his theological lectures
as then elaborated. These cover the subjects of natural theology; the
authority of the Bible, and its teaching concerning the natural and moral
attributes of God; the nature of Christ and of the Holy Spirit; the foundation
of moral obligation; the government of God; the sanctions of law; and the
atonement. In this volume there was not much to which any of the New School
Calvinists of that time could object. The introductory lectures upon "The
Intuitions of the Reason" and upon "The Nature of Evidence"
show rare skill in penetrating the central points of the themes under
discussion, and are worthy of the closest study. The lectures upon "The
Existence of God" and upon "Various Phases of Atheism" are
also, even in this sketchy condition, of the very highest value; as are the
chapters upon "The Divine Authority of the Bible," - a doctrine
which he defends in the most thoroughgoing manner.

Finney did not often write book reviews; but
upon the appearance, a year or two later, of a book likely to have a wide
circulation, and which contained, as he believed, erroneous views concerning
inspiration, he wrote a letter to the "Oberlin Evangelist," from
which the following quotation is made, principally to show the quickness of
his mind in perceiving the questions at issue in modern discussions upon the
subject

"The ground taken by the writer is that
the historical parts, especially, of the New Testament are not inspired, not
even with the inspiration of such a degree of divine superintendence as to
exclude error and contradiction from them. He takes the ground that there are
palpable inconsistencies and flat contradictions between the writers of the
Gospels, and points out several instances, it appears to me, very much with
the art and spirit of infidelity, which he affirms to be irreconcilable
contradictions. The ground taken by him is that the doctrinal parts of the New
Testament are inspired, but that the historical parts, or the mere
narrative, are uninspired.

"Who will not see at first blush that, if
the writers were mistaken in recording the acts of Christ, there is equal
reason to believe they were mistaken in recording the doctrines of Christ? Who
does not know that the record of the doctrines preached by Christ is mere
narrative and history, just as much as the journeyings, conversations, and
acts of Christ? To say that the narrative of the gospel is uninspired with the
inspiration of superintendence is the same thing as to say that the whole
gospel is uninspired. For what are the Gospels but narratives or histories of
Christ's birth, life, preaching, conversations, miracles, death, resurrection,
ascension, etc.? Now, what an inadmissible distinction is attempted when it is
affirmed that the didactic or doctrinal portions of the gospel are
inspired, while the narrative is uninspired? Only convince the world
and the church that the narrative of the gospel is uninspired, - that there
are irreconcilable contradictions between the writers, - and who will or who
can consistently believe that they may not have committed errors in stating
the doctrines of the gospel?

"The cases brought forward by this
writer, supposed by him to be irreconcilable contradictions, are specimens of
just that class of apparent discrepancies which forbid the idea of
collusion among the witnesses. When such apparent discrepancies as these exist
among witnesses in courts of justice, and it is found, on a thorough
examination, that they can be reconciled with each other, such apparent
discrepancies are considered as greatly corroborative of the truth, and add
much to the credibility of the witnesses, upon the ground that they forbid the
supposition of collusion among them. Now nothing is to be regarded as a
contradiction except that which cannot by any possibility be reconciled. And
there is no serious difficulty, in any of the cases adduced by the writer, in
showing that the account of each of the evangelists may be strictly true, one
omitting some circumstances mentioned by others. . . .

"It is amazing that the writer of
that article should not have ingenuity enough, if he had never seen the
subject examined, to discover some way in which those writers could be easily
enough reconciled with each other, and their apparent discrepancies
satisfactorily explained. In all such cases we are bound to show only that
they may be consistent with each other."(55)

To such an extent did Finney rely upon the
direct illumination of the Spirit in securing conversion and sanctification,
that it is important to notice, as in this extract, how firmly he held to the
plenary inspiration and the absolute authority of the Bible; and it is
interesting and instructive also to observe how his legal training led him to
formulate the proof of inspiration in accordance with the strictest principles
of inductive reasoning. In his lectures, he goes over the whole ground in the
broadest and most comprehensive manner. The doctrine, he says, does not imply
that the writers received everything they recorded by direct revelation, nor
that they were passive instruments, nor that their own individuality of style
should be destroyed, nor that they should record only circumstances of great
importance, nor that every part of the Bible is equally intelligible to all
persons in all ages and places, nor that the writers themselves always fully
understood what they wrote, nor that different writers should notice the same
particulars in recording the same transactions. It is only necessary that they
have substantial agreement with out absolute contradiction; that they wrote
nothing which, when properly interpreted, is false; and that by divine
illumination and guidance they communicated authoritatively the mind and will
of God.

That the Bible is so inspired he proves, not
by a bare appeal to tradition, nor by an appeal to the miraculous powers of
the writers, nor by the mere assertion of the writers themselves, unless they
were endued with miraculous powers, nor by the elevated style of the writing
alone, nor by the sublimity of the doctrines, nor by arguments independent of
the style and doctrines; but, assuming the authenticity, genuineness, and
credibility of the books to have been proved, he argues that inspiration
follows from the facts that Christ promised his apostles the gift both of
miracles and of inspiration, that He actually gave them miraculous power, that
some of them positively affirmed their inspiration, and that their style,
their doctrines, and their freedom from known error confirm these claims. In
the treatment of proof-texts substantiating these points, nothing seems to be
wanting, and the omission in the positive argument of proper reference to
tradition is supplied in the answer he gives to objections.

For example, to the objection that Mark and
Luke were not apostles, and therefore that the promises of inspiration and
miraculous power did not extend to them, he replies that miraculous power was
certainly possessed by many of the early disciples besides the apostles, and
so by inference was doubtless the gift of inspiration; that Mark and Luke
evidently wrote under the eye of apostles; and, finally, that if the apostles
had not approved and confirmed these Gospels, they could not have been so
universally received by the church, from the very first, as of divine
authority.

To the objection that Paul in some instances
seems to declare that he was not inspired, as in 1 Cor. vii. 10, 12, 25, 40,
and in 2 Cor. viii. 8, 10, 11, 17, he replies, first, that "if Paul
really intends to notify his readers that in these instances he did not write
under the influence of divine inspiration, it greatly confirms the fact of his
actual inspiration in all other cases, for why should he be so careful in
these particular instances to guard his readers against the supposition that
he spoke by divine authority if in other cases he did not in fact do so? But,
second, Paul might, and probably did, mean nothing more in these instances
than that the Lord had given no express command in respect to these
particulars, as no universal rule in relation to such matters could be adopted
in the then circumstances of the church, and that he therefore, as an inspired
apostle, did not mean to give a command in the name of the Lord, but simply
give his inspired advice as one who had the Spirit of the Lord."

As to the objection drawn from 2 Cor. xi. 17,
where Paul says that he speaks, "not after the Lord, but as it were
foolishly," Finney remarks that "the apostle seems here to have
meant that he felt embarrassed by the circumstances under which they had
placed him, and was constrained therefore to speak, not after the example of
the Lord in respect to speaking in his own defense, but was obliged to speak
as it were foolishly, as if he were a confident boaster. This does not imply
that he does not consider himself inspired, but that his inspiration made it
necessary, under the circumstances, for him to say what might appear immodest,
and as inconsistent with Christian humility."

He concludes his discussion of the subject by
remarking that "the question of the inspiration of the Bible is one of
the highest importance to the church and the world, and that those who have
called in question the plenary inspiration of the Bible have, sooner or later,
frittered away nearly all that is essential to the Christian religion."
From this it appears that he was as far as possible from being open to the
charge sometimes urged against him of disregarding the Bible in the
formulation of his theological system. Whatever tenets of theology he held, he
certainly suppposed he was justified in holding them by a proper
interpretation of the Scripture, and at every point he appealed to the
Scripture for confirmation of the positions taken.

Reason and Revelation.

Nevertheless, Finney maintained with great
strenuousness that the correspondences between the Bible and the intimation
and teachings of man's moral nature as revealed in consciousness were so
minute and extensive as to furnish, in preaching, an unimpeachable working
basis for securing belief in the gospel, and for exhortation to the higher
duties of the Christian religion. The skill and power with which he handled
this subject appears to advantage in a sermon preached, in 1854 upon "The
Inner and Outer Revelation," from 2 Cor. iv.2. After drawing out in some
detail the fundamental affirmations of our moral nature concerning the
existence and the law of God, and concerning our own helplessness under the
condemnation of a broken law, he goes on to show that the provisions of grace
are so fully and beautifully correlated to our wants and necessities as
sinners, that we cannot help regarding the Bible as coming from the same Being
who has created our moral nature and revealed himself in it.

"Having the first revelation," he
goes on to say, "to reject the second is most absurd. The second is to a
great extent a reaffirmation of the first, with various important additions of
a supplementary sort, e.g. the atonement, and hence the possibility of
pardon; the gift and work of the Spirit, and hence the analogous possibility
of being saved from sinning."

In Finney's treatment of this subject, as the
previous quotation shows, he on the one hand avoided the mystical vagueness of
those who unduly rely for light upon the so-called "Christian
consciousness," and, on the other, stood far aloof from the cold
agnosticism of those who unduly rely upon the unaided powers of the human
reason. While always and everywhere acknowledging the authority of Scripture,
at the same time he was confident that a popular audience could be made to see
the main grounds on which the reason is led to accept its doctrines as
authoritative. Recognizing, as he did, that few persons are able to give
independent study to the historical argument in support of the Bible, he
maintained that there is a shorter course which is equally trustworthy, and
which fully justifies the popular use of the Bible among Protestant
communities. "It is," he says, "a simple problem: given, a soul
guilty, condemned, and undone; required, some adequate relief. The gospel
solves the problem. . . . It answers every condition perfectly; it must
therefore come from God; it is, at least, our highest wisdom to accept
it." In expanding this thought, he contends that the written revelation
is so perfectly correlated to the affirmation of man's moral nature concerning
law, God, obligation, guilt, and ruin, that both must have had the same
originator. Only the Creator of the human heart could have made such adequate
provision for its wants as is found in the Scriptures. "In the
Bible," he says, "we have a system of duty and salvation of such
sort that it interlocks itself inseparably with truth intuitive to man, and
manifestly fills out a complement of moral instructions and agencies in
perfect adaptation to both man and his Maker." In the Bible we have a key
that threads the countless wards of a most complicated lock. The Bible and the
human heart must therefore have come from the same author; the one was made to
fit the other. "You cannot grant to man an origin from God but you must
grant the same origin to the Bible. . . . The reason, therefore, why the
masses receive the Bible is, not that they are credulous, and hence swallow
down absurdities with ease, but the reason is, that it commends itself so
irresistibly to each man's own nature and to his deep and resistless
conviction, he is shut up to receive it; he must do violence to his inner
convictions if he reject it. Man's whole nature cries out, 'This is just what
I need."'

But with Finney this did not end in mere
sentimentalism. For, according to him, one need of the human heart is of such
a manifestation of God's justice as is made either in the punishment of the
incorrigibly wicked, or, if their just punishment is remitted, in such
remedial provisions as are found in the atonement.

In the sermon referred to, the principle
is illustrated by a characteristic account of his dealing with a young lady
who came to him in great spiritual darkness, and who was unable to believe
that God's promised mercy comprehended her own case. She freely admitted her
guilt; but, as she had not been brought to have unquestioned faith in the
Bible, she despaired of mercy. At this point, Finney unfolded before her mind
the facts recorded in the Bible respecting what God had done to alleviate the
consequences of sin, and asked if this was not just such a manifestation of
God as her soul needed and craved. She assented that it was, but pronounced it
incredible that God should have done so much for his sinning creatures. It was
too good to be true. Still she gave intellectual assent to the statement that
God is infinitely good. At this crisis in her experience, Finney solemnly
called upon her to give God credit for sincerity, and believe the word which
He had pledged concerning the forgiveness of sin. To this she responded,
"I do believe," and burst into loud weeping as a result of the joy
accompanying her belief. Upon relating this, Finney exclaims, "What a
scene, - to see a skeptic beginning to give her God credit for love and
truth!"(56)
Thus it was that Finney ever looked upon faith as an act, as well as an
intellectual state. When the evidence was brought before the mind, he assumed
that there must be a moral delinquency if one failed to take the proper action
in view of it. His skill as a preacher consisted not only in unfolding the
evidence, but in narrowing the sphere of immediate activity down to so clear a
point that conviction of immediate duty could not be resisted. He called for
no action that was not at the time demanded by the reason of the case as
apprehended by his hearers.

Natural Theology.

All the chapters upon the attributes of God,
in Finney's preliminary volume, display to good advantage the metaphysical
cast of his mind, and the strong grasp which he had of the fundamental
questions in philosophy. Some further attention to these is necessary, in
order to understand the ampler discussions concerning the controverted
theological doctrines found in his later works.

Finney's hold upon the doctrine of the
personality of God is strong and his argument in proof of the existence of
such a personality as expressed in these "Skeletons," though brief,
is most cogent. First and foremost of these proofs is the existence and demand
of our moral nature. Man is conscious of having moral character, and has a
sense of being praiseworthy or blameworthy for his conduct, that is, he has a
moral constitution which intuitively imposes upon him a moral law. The
possession by a finite being of such a constitution and moral law irresistibly
reveals a Creator who is himself a moral being and a lawgiver. It was upon the
argument from these common convictions of men with reference to the divine
existence, traceable to the existence of a moral law within them, that Finney
chiefly relied for his proof of God's personality; and he assumed that the
elements of this argument were present in the human mind from the very first,
previous to any theoretical or formal statement. So cogent is the argument, he
avers, that it "always has insured and always will insure the conviction
of the great mass of men." In perusing his sermons, one constantly
encounters this line of reasoning, and the success of his preaching is largely
attributable to his skill in securing the assent of his hearers to his
fundamental propositions, whether they believed the Bible or not. With
inquirers who were desirous of drawing him out to the discussion of subsidiary
questions of doubt and difficulty, his conversation was likely to be something
as follows: "You have no time for such discussions now. Do you
"believe in a moral law?" The inquirer could but answer,
"Yes." "Are you not conscious of having broken that law?"
He was a very hardened man who would not also answer, "Yes."
"When you are willing to pledge obedience to that law as far as you
understand it, and to the God who made it, we can discuss these other
difficulties, but not before."

But Finney recognized other
considerations as confirmatory of the moral argument. He did not neglect to
maintain that the existence of the physical universe indicates a First Cause,
and that the adjustment of means to ends in that universe indicates a
designing Cause, and that the general consent of mankind to the existence of a
God is also confirmatory of the main argument. The metaphysical argument is
drawn out by him - to a considerable length, in which he concludes that
"the existence of God is an inference or affirmation of reason removed
one step back from consciousness. I think, therefore I am. This is the first
inference. I am, the universe is, therefore God is, is the second step
or affirmation; and the second has the same certainty as the first, because it
is based upon it. The existence of God, then, is as certain as my own
existence and the existence of the universe. . . . The events of the universe being
admitted or proved, it is impossible that God should not exist. The
contrary supposition is an absurdity, as it assumes that the universe of
events is uncaused, which is absurd. If by 'demonstration' we mean that which
shows that the proposition in the question can but be true, the argument for
the existence of God amounts to a demonstration."(57)

Some of Finney's answers to atheistic
objections are specially worthy of note. For example, to the objection that a
God of infinite goodness, knowledge, and power could not be the author of a
universe involving so much evil both physical and moral as is known to exist,
Finney answers, "Infinite goodness, knowledge, and power imply only that,
if a universe were made, it would be the best that was naturally possible.
This objection assumes that a better universe, upon the whole, was a natural
possibility. It assumes that a universe of moral beings could, under a moral
government administered in the wisest and best manner, be wholly restrained
from sin; but this needs proof, and never can be proved."

Falling back upon the doctrine of God's
inscrutability, he argues that our failure to understand all the reasons for
the present constitution of things is no bar to our believing that there may
be ample reason for its existence, and proceeds not only to enforce the
positive evidence of benevolent design, but to show that much which seems to
us void of design, and especially of benevolent design, may, after all, be the
product of the highest benevolence. The principal starting-point for all this
line of reasoning is found in the emphasis which we are permitted to throw
upon the possibilities of moral freedom and the nobility of moral discipline;
still, with respect to the natural evils to which the animal creation is
subjected, another line of argument has to be introduced, which, as we shall
see a little later, Finney used with as much confidence and skill as is
displayed by any modern naturalist.

In coming to the subject of the moral
attributes of God, we approach questions upon which systems of theology begin
to diverge from each other. Finney held, with Edwards, Samuel Hopkins, and N.
W. Taylor, that benevolence, in the sense of willing the existence of the
highest attainable absolute good, is the sum of all virtue in man, and of all
the adorable moral attributes of God. Justice, mercy, truth, in all their
manifestations, are but forms of benevolence, modified by the conditions under
which the benevolent volition expresses itself. Regarding God, therefore, as a
moral agent possessing true freedom, as well as infinite knowledge, Finney
finds in the very fact of his omniscience the ground of our confidence that
God is benevolent. His whole treatment of this subject, even in the skeleton
form, is most suggestive.

Finney argues the benevolence of God from his
omniscience. For God cannot but know all the reasons in favor of benevolence,
and cannot divert attention from them so as to obscure their character, and
the reason affirms that God must always act under the full force of these
motives to benevolence. As Finney clearly perceived, this statement of the
case involves the Socratic idea that sin is a result of ignorance. The wicked
man does evil because his attention is temporarily diverted from the strength
of the motives urging him to benevolence. Nevertheless, without any attempt at
explanation, Finney adhered to this ground of belief in God's unvarying
benevolence, and, at the same time, rejected the necessitarian interpretation
usually put upon the Socratic doctrine. He knew how to distinguish between a
certainty and a necessity, - between the action of a moral motive and that of
a locomotive.

An additional argument adduced by Finney for
the divine benevolence is drawn from the fact that God has bestowed upon man a
moral nature, and has thus made him capable of approving the good and
condemning the evil. If God were not perfectly good, He would have every
motive to abstain from bestowing upon the creature a capacity which would
compel him to abhor the conduct of his Creator.

With respect to the question of the
Creator's benevolence towards the animal creation as considered by itself,
Finney sides with naturalists like Wallace, rather than with sentimentalists
like Arnold, John Stuart Mill, and Tennyson. Indeed, some of the passages in
Wallace's recent chapters on the beneficence of nature(58)
might well have been taken from these "Skeletons" of Finney, written
fifty years before. So far from being depressed, as Tennyson was, by the
wholesale destruction of many forms of life, Finney, like Wallace and others
of his class, - finds it possible to derive an actual argument for the divine
benevolence from this quarter, concluding that not only is it no
insurmountable objection, to either God's wisdom, or power, or benevolence,
that -

"From scarped cliff and quarried stone
She cries, A thousand types are gone,"

but that these very facts afford proof of the
Creator's benevolence.

"Animal life," he says, "while
it lasts, is a real blessing, and probably in every instance more than
compensates for the pain of death.

"From the very constitution of animals,
they are necessarily mortal, and it is certainly good economy to make the
carcass of one food for others, as in this case a greater number of animals
can subsist upon the earth; e.g. let the earth be filled with
vegetable-eating animals, as many as could subsist upon that species of diet;
then let us suppose another class of animals to subsist upon the flesh of the
vegetable-eating animals, and another class to subsist upon the milk both of
the vegetable and flesh-eating animals: it is easy to see that in this way a
greater amount of animal life, and consequently of bestial happiness, can be
secured than would be otherwise possible. The fact that animals do so subsist
is, therefore, a striking evidence of the economic benevolence of the Creator.
Just so in the sea. One species of fish may live on certain marine substances;
and when the number is so multiplied as that no more can be supplied with such
kinds of aliment, other species may exist that will prey upon these, as is
actually the fact, and thus a greater number of fishes may exist than were
otherwise possible.

"It cannot be shown that the whole
amount of animal happiness is not greater than if animals and fishes were not
to prey upon one another."(59)

Theodicy.

So of the objection to God's benevolence drawn
from the existence of pain in general, Finney affirms that it "cannot be
shown that, in a world like this, sickness, pain, death, and other apparent
ills are real evils. They certainly are often only blessings in disguise. And
it cannot be shown that they are not invariably so.

"With respect to the death of
infants and of animals, their death may be mercifully ordered to prevent still
greater calamities befalling them. And in the case of infants, there is no
reason to doubt that their natural death is only the entrance upon eternal
life."(60)

Nor does he shrink from facing the most
appalling of all objections to the coexistence in God both of benevolence and
almighty power, namely, the prevalence of sin in the universe. In maintaining
the existence of these divine attributes in face of the moral evil which so
abounds in the world, Finney falls back, with the New Haven theologians of his
time, upon the manifest principle, that the best possible universe might not
be the best conceivable universe. We can conceive that the universe would be
actually better than it is if the moral beings created had uniformly used
their moral powers aright; yet it might not in the nature of things be
possible to bestow these high powers upon created beings, and then compel
absolute obedience. It is sufficient to justify the ways of God in the
creation and government of the universe to prove that the universe as it is,
is better than no universe at all; or rather, it is incumbent upon those who
deny or doubt either the benevolence or the power of God, To prove that the
existence of the present universe is not a positive addition to the sum of
well-being. Upon this point a single paragraph gives the gist of Finney's
views: -

"It cannot be shown that the present
system, with all its natural and moral evils, does not, after all, result in a
greater amount of virtue and happiness than any other system would or could
have done. Had there been more temptation, it might have destroyed all virtue.
Had there been less, virtue had certainly been less valuable, and final
happiness less complete."

In this line of reasoning, Finney's training
as a lawyer gave him marked advantage, and we consequently find him stating
with rare clearness the questions to be proved, and pressing with skill the
considerations underlying the legal maxim, that the defendant is to have the
benefit of the doubt, and that in proportion to the established character of
his reputation. It is enough, therefore, Finney maintains, to show that the
existence of moral evil in the world "may be accounted for in consistency
with the truth of all the evidence for the benevolence of God." There is
so much clearly indicating the benevolence of God, that we may believe in his
benevolence where we cannot see it.

Under Finney's view of benevolence, the
justice, mercy, and truth of God will more naturally come up for treatment in
connection with the subject of the atonement. We may also briefly pass over
his treatment of the unity and triunity of God, upon which his views do not
differ materially from the orthodox doctrine. We should note, however, that,
in proof of the Trinity, as well as of the twofold nature of Christ and of the
personality and divinity of the Holy Spirit, he depends almost wholly upon
Scripture.

Controverted Points.

Respecting subjects of anthropology, Finney's
views coincided, as has been previously remarked, with those maintained by the
New School Calvinists. Upon the group of questions connected with this subject
Finney published elaborately, first in the "Oberlin Evangelist" from
1839 on, and then in two volumes upon "Systematic Theology," filling
twelve hundred octavo pages, published in Oberlin in 1846 and 1847. The topics
embraced in these volumes are the atonement, moral and physical depravity,
regeneration, philosophical theories, evidences of regeneration (vol. i.),
ability (natural, moral, and gracious), repentance, impenitence, faith and
unbelief, justification, sanctification, election, reprobation, divine
purposes, divine sovereignty, and perseverance (vol. ii.).

These volumes were subjected to very searching
criticism, especially on account of the fact that, since 1840, the views of
Finney and Mahan upon the subject of sanctification, or Christian perfection,
had been so much spoken against and misunderstood that, as already said,
Oberlin Perfectionism became for a long time a byword of reproach. Not only
were ministers silenced for preaching it, but church members were
excommunicated for holding it. But at this there is little occassion for
surprise when we consider the sensitiveness of the public mind at that time
with respect to theological innovation, and the slowness of the human mind at
all times in apprehending new theological movements; and we allude to the
facts without any design of putting an unchartiable construction upon them.

The substance of the Oberlin doctrine of
sanctification was presented by Finney in two sermons at the Broadway
Tabernacle, New York, in the winter of 1836-37, while he was still pastor of
the church, under the arrangement by which he divided his time between Oberlin
and New York. These sermons were reported by Mr. Leavitt in the "New York
Evangelist," and soon afterwards reprinted in the volume entitled
"Lectures to Professing Christians," and were thus widely
circulated. Published under these circumstances, they were not the subject of
special criticism.

It apears that Finney's views on this question
underwent a change soon after he came to Oberlin, partly in consequence of
contact with the various influences which we have already related as centering
here, but more especially from his own enlarged conceptions of the promises of
Scripture. At the same time, his mind felt with increasing keenness the
necessity of a higher state of consecration on the part of the church, if
Christianity was ultimately to prevail in the world. In addition to these
considerations, the philosophical views which Finney afterwards worked out,
with reference to the action of the will, materially modified the doctrine,
and at the same time added to the difficulty which many had in apprehending
its real merits.

When he came to Oberlin, where the great
majority of those who listened to his stated preaching were already converted
persons, his attention was naturally turned to the work of building up the
character of both the colonists and the students in those respects which would
make them most effective as Christian witnesses. Very soon, and in consequence
of his preaching, a select number of his best pupils became profoundly
agitated over the question, If we are perfectly consecrated in our conversion,
why cannot we hope, through the grace of God, to attain an abiding state of
consecration? To this proposition, when first presented, Finney replied, with
his accustomed vigor, that it was entirely out of the question; that if they
could find a man who was perfectly keeping the commands of God and living up
to his light, he would creep on his hands and knees all the way to the
Atlantic Ocean to see him. Nevertheless, he was soon persuaded that the
promises of the Bible contemplated this state of abiding consecration on the
part of believers, and that these promises were such that men might, through
the abundant grace of God, aim at such a condition, with the rational hope of
attaining it. In all this, however, there was no thought of imposing any yoke
upon others to which he did not also himself submit.

In an early number of the "Oberlin
Evangelist," Finney began a series of letters addressed "To the
Young Christians who have been converted in the Great Revivals of the Past Few
Years, scattered up and down the Land, wherever the Providence of God may have
cast your lot." At the same time, his lectures and sermons were fully
reported in the paper, and Professor Cowles was writing a series of articles
upon "The Holiness of Christians in the Present Life." In the second
of these letters, Finney referred to a garbled extract of one of his former
lectures, in which he is said to have spoken disparagingly of his early
converts, to the effect that their growth in grace had been so small, and
their standard of piety so low, that, as a body, they were a disgrace to
religion. But he called attention to the fact that, in the same connection, he
had said they were real Christians, and were indeed the best Christians in the
church. All that he had said was uttered from an overweening desire to win
them away, if possible, from the last remains of sin, and in this he did not
set himself up as in a class above them. But he says that when he came to
labor as a settled pastor in New York, he found that he had been so long in
pursuit of sinners with the law to convict them, and only enough of the gospel
just to convert them, that his mind had, as it were, run down, and that those
high and spiritual truths which are the food and life of the Christian soul
had not that place in his own heart which is indispensable to the effectual
exhibition of them to others. "I found," he says, "that I knew
comparatively little about Christ, and that a multitude of things were said
about Him in the gospel of which I had no spiritual view, and of which I knew
little or nothing.

"What I did know of Christ was almost
exclusively as an atoning and justifying Saviour. But as a Jesus to save men
from sin, or as a sanctifying Saviour, I knew very little about Him. This was
made, by the Spirit of God, very clear to my mind. And it deeply convinced me
that I must know more of the gospel in my own experience, and have more of
Christ in my own heart, or I could never expect to benefit the church. In that
state of mind, I used often to tell the Lord Jesus Christ that I was sensible
that I knew very little about Him, and I besought Him to reveal himself to me,
that I might be instrumental in revealing Him to others. I used especially to
pray over particular passages, and classes of passages, in the gospel, that
speak of Christ, that I might apprehend their meaning, and feel their power
in my own heart. And I was often strongly convinced that I desired this
for the great purpose of making Christ known to others.

"I will not enter into detail with
regard to the way in which Christ led me. Suffice it to say, and alone to the
honor of his grace do I say it, that He has taught me some things that I asked
Him to show me. Since my own mind became impressed in the manner in which I
have spoken, I have felt as strongly and unequivocally pressed by the Spirit
of God to labor for the sanctification of the church as I once did for the
conversion of sinners. By multitudes of letters, and from various other
sources of information, I have learned, to my great joy, that God has been and
is awakening a spirit of inquiry on the subject of holiness throughout the
church, both in this country and in Europe."(61)

Unfortunately, in his views upon this
doctrine, Finney did not carry with him the leading New School Calvinists of
the time, and, apparently to avoid the prejudice aroused against it, they felt
themselves compelled to take special pains to clear their skirts of
responsibility for the doctrine. Committees were therefore from time to time
appointed by the presbyteries, synods, and other church judicatories to
consider the subject, and they pretty generally made reports adverse to the
truth and orthodoxy of the views. The criticism which Finney felt most keenly
was that made by the Troy Presbytery in 1841, and which was signed and bore
marks of having been written by his former friend and coadjutor, Dr. N. S. S.
Beman. This manifesto of the Troy Presbytery closed with a resolution
declaring the doctrine to be false in itself, calculated to engender
self-righteousness, disorder, deception, censoriousness, and fanaticism,
contrary to the Westminster Confession of Faith, and altogether such that it
was the duty of ministers to preach against it, and expressed much regret and
sorrow that the theological professors at Oberlin should have espoused the
heresy.

About the same time, also, Professor Woods, of
Andover, published a courteous but very positive review in condemnation of it.
Other utterances in condemnation are too numerous to mention, and the
bitterness of the opposition is too painful to contemplate with pleasure.
Faithful ministers were not only shut out from entering the pulpit, but were
interrupted in the midst of useful work upon the frontier, and were so utterly
proscribed that they and their families were left to suffer in penury and
want. Even missionaries in distant foreign lands were dropped by the American
Board, and left to seek support by their own labors or by special appeals, and
Oberlin students were refused beneficiary aid by the American Education
Society. The ostensible reason for this last effort was that the course of
study in the college department was below the standard in classical
attainments. It was clearly shown, however, that, if Hebrew was reckoned as
equal to Latin, the Oberlin standard in college was scarcely at all below that
at Yale.

The Old School Presbyterians were not slow to
see their advantage. Upon the appearance of Finney's "Theology,"
Prof. Charles Hodge, in the "Biblical Repertory" of June, 1847,
published a review of it which was characterized by much acuteness but more
acerbity, in which he extolled to the highest. degree Finney's logical power,
but manifestly for the sake of forcing home upon the New School men the
conviction that Finney's theology was a complete reductio ad absurdum
of the whole New School system, and that the only way of avoiding his
heretical conclusions was by abandoning the fundamental principles of the
whole New School party.

This attack of Hodge was followed in October
of the same year by a pamphlet entitled "A Warning against Error,"
written by Dr. Duffield, a prominent New School pastor of Detroit, Mich., and
formally approved by the Synod of Michigan, which endeavored to show that
Finney's views were not the necessary outgrowth of the fundamental principles
of the New School party.

To both these attacks Finney made extensive
replies in the "Oberlin Quarterly Review," while the "Oberlin
Evangelist," both before and after this time, frequently commented upon
the "backward track" which the New School men were taking to avoid
acceptance of the Oberlin views upon sanctification. It should be said,
however, that the views of sanctification, as practically held at Oberlin,
were maintained originally and chiefly on the ground of their biblical
character; and that the three main advocates of the views, namely, Mahan,
Finney, and Cowles, were by no means agreed in all their philosophical
speculations upon the matter. As already intimated, Finney, in working out his
system of theology, had adopted the Edwardean or Hopkinsian theory of virtue,
namely, that the highest good of being in general is the foundation of
obligation. With regard to the will, also, he had adopted the view of Emmons,
that, at every successive moment, it is wholly virtuous or wholly sinful, - a
doctrine styled in Finney's "Theology" "the Simplicity of moral
action." The former of these views Mahan never adopted, and the latter
Cowles was never known to approve.

What they were all agreed in, however, was the
natural ability of the human will to keep the law of God, or, in other words,
the equation between the extent of obligation and that of natural ability. All
held, also, the certainty that without divine grace man would always fall
short of meeting this obligation, and that therefore both regeneration and
sanctification were dependent upon gracious influences freely bestowed upon
believers, according to the promises of the Bible. The practical aim of Finney
in all this discussion was to induce the church to strive after a higher
standard of Christian life, and to attain a more joyful and satisfactory
experience, than had characterized the older form of Calvinism. In this there
is no doubt he was successful, and an examination of his system will reveal a
solid basis both for the evangelical activity which he exhibited and urged,
and for such readjustments of evangelical thought as are made necessary by the
changing character of modern development. This will appear as we now proceed
to pass under review the more peculiar portions of his system.

Ability and Obligation.

In his analysis of the human mind, Finney
distinguishes between the sense, which receives impressions from the
outside world; the understanding, which takes up, classifies, and
arranges the objects and truths of sensation; and the will, which, in
presence of the motives presented by the sense and the reason, commits the
life to an end which is good or bad. The idea of absolute or ultimate good is
first given in the sensibility, for it is through this faculty that man first
experiences happiness or satisfaction. Happiness, in the fullest and broadest
sense of that word, is the only absolute or ultimate good. Other things which
are called good are only relatively so, that is, they are good for something.
Food is not good in itself, but only in its relation to sentient being. Food
gives pleasure to the animal which appropriates it, and that pleasure is an
absolute good. Food gives strength and pleasure to a man. So far as it gives
pleasure, it accomplishes an absolute good, but the strength imparted is only
another stage of relative good, which may be used for higher purposes, - to
produce, for example, a piece of sculpture, a painting, a poem, or a song,
which in turn are only still higher forms of relative good. If, now,
there is a cultivated eye to perceive the beauties produced, a cultivated ear
to appreciate the melody of the song, and a cultivated mind to be thrilled by
the poetry, this satisfaction of the mind is an ultimate good. Thus, in
ever-widening spheres, the summum bonum is, to the moral reason,
indicated in the comprehensive phrase "the highest good of being,"
and this is intuitively seen to be an object worthy in itself of supreme
choice. This "highest good of being," or, as Finney was careful to
say, "highest good of God and the universe," is the foundation of
obligation. To choose the highest good of being is right and praiseworthy in
itself. This is, indeed, the essence of all virtue. The character of a choice
is not determined till we have found its attitude with reference to this
comprehensive ultimate good. How, for example, should we determine the
character of an industrious, frugal, and well-behaved young man whose conduct
is under consideration? He is industrious, frugal, and well-behaved for the
purpose of obtaining money. He desires money to get an education. He desires
an education to get more money. He desires more money to found a college or a
church. But still we have not arrived at the ultimate choice upon which the
real character of the man depends. He may desire to found a college to
perpetuate his fame, which may or may not be a virtuous choice. Or this may be
the last step in a train of causes which he would set in motion to promote the
glory of God and the good of the universe, when, and when only, it would be
true virtue. Three brief statements of Finney cover the whole ground:
"The well-being of God and the universe of sentient existences is
intrinsically important or valuable, and all moral agents are under obligation
to choose it for its own sake. . . . God's ultimate end in all He does or
omits is the highest well-being of himself and the universe, and in all his
acts and dispensations his ultimate object is the promotion of this end. . . .
All obligation resolves itself into an obligation to choose the highest good
of God and of being in general for its own sake, and to choose all the known
conditions and means of this end for the sake of the end."

The theory of virtue with which this is
most likely to be confounded is the form of utilitarianism advocated by Prof.
N. W. Taylor, of New Haven. Like Finney, Taylor maintained that the only
ultimate thing good in itself is mental satisfaction or happiness, but he does
not distinguish with equal clearness between the absolute and the relative use
of the word "good." For example, Taylor correctly says: "Were
everything as it is, - were God and his vast creation as they are, with the
single exception of all capacity of happiness and all possibility of such
happiness, - all would be utterly worthless." But in the sentence before
this, Taylor had confounded two uses of the word "good" between
which Finney was always careful to distinguish. Taylor had said, "Nothing
is good but happiness and the means of happiniess," including the absence
of misery and the means of its absence. This lack of discrimination between
ultimate or absolute good and proximate or relative good necessarily led
Taylor into a form of utilitarianism. Taylor's statement is, that "all
the worth or value of man, or of any other moral being, consists in his
capacity of happiness, and of that self-active nature which qualifies him to
produce happiness to other beings and to himself. All the worth or value, or
goodness or excellence, which pertains to action on the part of a moral being,
is its fitness or adaptation to produce the results. The best kind of action,
therefore, on his part, is that which is exclusively and perfectly fitted to
produce the highest happiness of others and his own highest happiness. This
kind of action, in its relation to the happiness of others, and its relation
at least in one respect to the happiness of the agent himself, is benevolence,
or benevolent action. This kind of action is good, not simply as it is
perfectly fitted to produce the highest happiness of all other beings, but
also as, by being thus fitted to produce the highest happiness of all other
beings, it is perfectly fitted to produce the highest happiness of the agent
of which he is capable, from any object or end of action."(62)

Finney's criticism of Taylor's position would
be, that he confounds the end with the means, and has failed to distinguish
what the political economists would call "value in use" from
"value in exchange." When Taylor says that all the goodness of an
action pertains to its adaptation to produce results, an incongruous element
is introduced into the discussion. Finney would say, with Kant, that
good-willing is praiseworthy and excellent in itself, without reference to any
actual tendency to promote the well-being which is the object of choice. It is
"the value of the end, and not the tendency of the intention to secure
the end, that constitutes the foundation of the obligation to intend."

But, on the other hand, Finney clearly enough
maintains that the obligation to use any particular means to do good must be
conditioned upon the supposed "tendency of those means to secure the
end." But this is the obligation to put forth a proximate rather than an
ultimate choice. Ultimate intention has no such condition.

"The perceived intrinsic value
imposes obligation without any reference to the tendency of the
intention."(63)
This distinction between the conditions upon which the will is bound to make
use of certain means adapted to promote the highest well-being, and the good
of being itself, which is the ground of obligation to intend, must always be
kept clearly in mind in interpreting Finney's system. The obligation to choose
the ultimate end is intuitive and absolute, and is imposed upon the mind by
the moral reason just so soon as the idea of absolute good is revealed to man
by his sensibility. The obligation to use certain means arises only as the
understanding, often slowly and hesitatingly, reveals their adaptation to the
end. The choice of the good of being may be defined as that attitude of the
soul in which it is committed to the use of every means for the promotion of
the end which shall be brought to light. The soul that has made the highest
good of being its ultimate choice stands ready to promote it by the use
of all appropriate means.

Does the End Sanctify the Means?

Finney's view that the only absolute
rule of obligation is that man should choose the highest good of being, and be
ready, with such knowledge and power as he has, to make use of all means
tending to promote it, sounds, when baldly stated, like the jesuitical
doctrine that the end sanctifies the means. Prof. Charles Hodge was not slow
in perceiving this, and in his criticism of Finney's "Theology" made
it one of the two main points of attack, alleging that Finney's theory had its
natural outcome in the doctrine of the Jesuits, and therefore must be false.
To this Finney replied at length in the "Oberlin Quarterly Review."(64)

Dr. Hodge had said that the only
difference between Finney's view and that of the Jesuits is that Finney
inserts the word ultimate" before "intention," maintaining that
all other things are right or wrong as they proceed from a right or wrong
ultimate intention." But, said Hodge, we cannot see that this makes any
real difference in the doctrine itself. Both parties (i. e. the Jesuits
and Mr. Finney) agree that the intention must be right, and, if that is right,
everything which proceeds from it is right. The former says that the honor and
welfare of the church is the proper object of intention. Mr. Finney says the
highest good of being is the only proper object. The latter, however, may
include the former, and the Jesuit may well say that in intending the welfare
of the church he intends the glory of God and the highest good of the
universe. In any event, the whole poison of the doctrine lies in the principle
common to both, namely, that whatever proceeds from a right intention is
right. If this is so, then the end sanctifies the means, and it is right to do
evil that good may come, which is Paul's "reductio ad absurdum."(65)

To this charge Finney answered that the
insertion of the word "ultimate" before "intention" in the
jesuitical statement entirely transforms the doctrine, since the real error of
the Jesuits consists in unduly exalting a subordinate end. The question
whether it is right in all circumstances to defend the Catholic Church depends
on the larger question whether that church is a necessary means of promoting
the highest good of being in the universe. In order to settle this question,
it is necessary to look beyond the subordinate end, and this the Jesuits
declined to do. The ultimate choice of the good of being which Finney
contemplates involves the choice of all the means which, according to the
dictates of reason and revelation, are adapted to the securing of that end.
"One cannot choose an end in obedience to God and reason, and then
disobey and disregard both or either in the use of means to secure his end.
This is impossible. If honest in his end, he will be and must be honest in the
use of means. Benevolence consists in the choice of the highest good of
universal being as an ultimate end, and implies the choice of every interest
of every being, according to its perceived and relative value."(66)

Farther on, Finney shows that the
substitution of other standards of virtue, in the place of the good of being,
does not relieve one from the hazards of jesuitical casuistry.
"Nothing," he says, "is gained by replying to the Jesuits by
assuming that there are divers independent grounds of moral obligation, and
consequently divers moral laws; for, if the supposition be admitted that there
are, either these laws may come into conflict or they cannot. If they can, who
will say that the law of benevolence shall yield to the law of right; or that
it can be a duty to will abstract right as an end, rather than the highest
well-being of God and the universe? But if these supposed moral laws cannot
come into conflict, why then the Jesuit will of course reply that it is, and
must be always, right to will the highest well-being or good of God and the
universe, with the necessary conditions and means; and therefore the end, or
the intention, must give character to and sanctify the means. Or, again,
suppose that there be divers ultimate ends or grounds of moral obligation, he
would tell you that, in the pursuit of any of these, the end or intention
sanctifies the means; so that nothing is gained, so far as avoiding the
perversion of the Jesuits is concerned, by assuming that there are divers
grounds of moral obligation, and of course divers moral laws. And the same is
true whether it be admitted or denied that these ends or laws come into
conflict."(67)

Comprehensiveness of Love.

Dr. Hodge complained of Finney's theology that
it was too comprehensive, and was a vain attempt "to squeeze all this
[the Scripture idea of love] down, and wire-draw it through one pinhole. . . .
We may admit," says Hodge, "that love is the fulfilling of the law,
without being sophisticated into believing, or rather saying, that faith is
love, justice is love, patience is love, humility love."

In reply, Finney had but to point to his ample
treatment of this subject in his published volume, where it would seem that he
had sufficiently guarded against any such misapprehension; for example, on
pages 183-185 of his first Oberlin edition (211-213 of the later London
edition), he had said: -

"All the moral attributes of God and of
all holy beings are only attributes of benevolence. . . . God is love. This
term expresses comprehensively God's whole moral character. . . . But from
this comprehensive statement, accurate though it be, we are apt to receive
very inadequate conceptions of what really belongs to or is implied in
benevolence. To say that love is the fulfilling of the whole law; that
benevolence is the whole of true religion; that the whole duty of man to God
and his neighbor is expressed in one word, love, - these statements, though
true, are so comprehensive as to need, with all minds, much amplification and
explanation.

"The fact is, that many things are
implied in love or benevolence. By this is intended that benevolence needs to
be viewed under various aspects and in various relations, and its dispositions
or willings considered in the various relations in which it is called to act.
Benevolence is an ultimate intention, or the choice of an ultimate end. Now,
if we suppose that this is all that is implied in benevolence, we shall
egregiously err. Unless we inquire into the nature of the end which
benevolence chooses, and the means by which it seeks to accomplish that end,
we shall understand but little of the import of the word 'benevolence.'
Benevolence has many attributes or characteristics. These must all harmonize
in the selection of its end, and in its efforts to realize it. Wisdom,
justice, mercy, truth, holiness, and many other attributes, as we shall see,
are essential elements or attributes of benevolence."(68)

On recurring to the place referred to in
Finney, one will find no less than sixty pages occupied with the discussion of
the attributes of benevolence, and no less than thirty-seven attributes
specified and defined. True benevolence is voluntary; is free; is intelligent;
is in conformity with the perceived nature of things in its relation to the
end chosen; is disinterested; is impartial; is universal in the objects of its
embrace is efficient and active; is penitent in view of sin; is trustful in
presence of all the revelations of God's character; is complacent in view of
all revealed virtue; is opposed to sin; is compassionate for the miserable; is
inclined to the exercise of mercy where mercy is wise; is ready to execute
justice where necessary for the public good; is veracious; is patient; is
meek; is long-suffering; is humble; is self-denying; is condescending; is
candid; is stable; is kind; is on occasions severe; is holy (that is, is
inclined to emphasize the importance of conformity to the law); is modest; is
sober; is sincere; is zealous for the truth; is single in its aim; is full of
gratitude for favors received; is submissive to the dictates of wisdom; is
disposed to bestow favors upon others; and finally is regardful of the
principles of economy in all its subordinate manifestations.

The Simplicity of Moral Action.

In company with Dr. Emmons, Finney
regarded the action of the will at each moment as necessarily altogether holy
or altogether sinful. The will is like a railroad train: whatever movement it
has must be in one of two directions. If it moves at all, it must be either
forwards or backwards. The velocity and momentum may be of varying degrees,
proportionate to the greatness of the being who is acting and to the intensity
of the light under which the choice is put forth. "The breast of every
Christian," according to Emmons, "is a field of battle where
sometimes benevolence and sometimes selfishness gains the victory."(69)
"Sin and holiness are diametrically opposite affections, and cannot be
united in one and the same volition."(70)
This principle leads to the apparently absurd position that, if a person at a
particular instant puts forth a praiseworthy choice, he is as good as he can
be; and if he puts forth a blameworthy choice, he is as bad as he can be. This
form of stating the conclusion led to the charge that, on Finney's theory,
growth in holiness was impossible, and degeneracy of character out of the
question. This, however, is a misdirected criticism, arising from amphibology
in the terms employed. The phrase "good as one can be" may be used
either in the present tense or in the future. By Finney it is used in the
present, and refers merely to the character of an instantaneous choice under
given conditions. At each successive moment of choice the conditions change,
and so successive choices may be compared with each other as more or less
intense.(71)
Furthermore, in our general estimates of character, we attach great importance
to the permanence of the choices involved. In both these respects, Finney was
free to maintain the possibility of improvement. Speaking of growth in grace,
he says that "it consists in two things: first, in stability or
permanency of holy ultimate intention; second, in intensity or strength. As
knowledge increases, Christians will naturally grow in grace in both of these
respects."(72)

The alternative theories concerning the will
are reduced by Finney to five: First, "that selfishness and benevolence
can coexist in the same mind," a supposition which both Finney and Emmons
declare to be as inconceivable as "that a volition to walk should be
partly a desire to move, and partly a desire to stand still." Second,
"that the same act or choice may have a complex character on account of
complexity in the motives which induce it." But in the ultimate analysis
this is the same as the first. Character is determined by a choice between
motives. The right action of the will is a positive choice of the highest good
of being. Refusal to put forth that choice is without excuse, and is sin.
Third, "that an act or choice may be right in kind, but deficient in
intensity or degree." To this, Finney replies: "If all the strength
is not given, it must be because part of it is voluntarily withholden. That
is, I choose the end, but not with all my strength; or I choose the end, but
choose not to choose it with all my strength," either of which
contradicts the demands of benevolence. A fourth supposition is, "that
the will or heart may be right while the affections or emotions are
wrong." But the affections and emotions do not constitute the essence of
moral character. They may be signs of it. They may indicate what the character
has been in the past, but in the ultimate analysis the real character is found
in an act of the will. But it is, as Emmons pronounced it, both a groundless
and a dangerous doctrine to suppose "that Christians may live days and
months, and even years, in a dull, stupid, lifeless state, their principle of
grace continuing, but not in proper sensible exercises." Men deceive
themselves when they suppose that they are better than their exercises. Fifth,
it is held by some "that there may be a ruling, latent, actually existing
holy preference or intention coexisting with an opposing volition." To
this it is replied that the supposition involves a confusion respecting the
relation of ultimate and proximate choices. The opposing volitions spoken of,
if they relate to the ultimate end, involve real vacillations of character. If
they relate merely to the means of attaining the ultimate end, and arise from
uncertainty of judgment respecting those means, they do not of course affect
the character. And so the position remains unshaken, that the attitude of the
will is always either "wholly right or wholly wrong, and never partly
right and partly wrong at the same time."

The most plausible objection to this
theory consists in the attempt to show that it is contrary to the facts of
experience; since, it is held, if there were these violent alternations in
character from moment to moment, we should be more distinctly conscious of
them than we are, and so the theory has been facetiously called "the
pendulum theory of moral action," and declared to be destructive of all
ideas of permanence in character, and to imply most violent and impossible
transitions, not merely of actual character, but of the emotions appropriately
representative of character. To this Dr. Emmons replied that, since the
Scripture represents holy affections as entirely distinct from unholy
affections, this affords much stronger proof of the fact than a mere want of
consciousness can afford to the contrary. "We all know," he says,
"that our thoughts are extremely rapid in their succession. We cannot
ascertain how many thoughts we have in one hour, or even in one minute. And
our affections or volitions may be as rapid in their succession as our
thoughts; yea, it is very evident that they are too rapid for
observation."(73)

This line of argument was prominent in many of
Finney's sermons upon the subject of self-deception. On nothing did he dwell
more strongly than on the danger of having the "conscience seared,"
that is, of becoming, through inattention, oblivious to the character of the
choices that are really controlling our activity. The whole effort in such
sermons was to bring clearly out into consciousness the character of each
ultimate choice, that in view of it the feelings might be appropriately moved.
From this aim arose, in considerable degree, the analytical character of much
of his preaching. He attempted at all points to show the bearing of every
proximate choice upon the ultimate object of worthy desire, and to make his
hearers feel that in what are regarded as the most trifling things they might
be guilty of setting aside the whole law of God. Nothing was more marked in
his preaching than its effect in quickening the consciences of his hearers,
and making them scrupulous in their action concerning small things as well as
great.

Another form of objection to this theory, that
the action of the will is at every instant as good as it can be or as bad as
it can be, is that it lowers the claims of the law upon those who have by any
means impaired their power of action. "If," it is contended,
"we dwarf or abridge our powers, we do not thereby abridge the claims of
God; if we render it impossible to perform so high a service as we might have
done, the Lawgiver, nevertheless, requires the same as before; should we dwarf
or completely derange or stultify our powers, He would still hold us under
obligation to perform all we might have performed had our powers remained in
their integrity." To this Finney replied by a general denial, affirming
that the law does not, and cannot in justice, demand of us impossibilities. If
a man has sinfully diminished his powers, he is blamed, and may justly be
punished, for that sin. But future commands are based upon the remnants of
capacity which the agent still retains. In reference to the effect of
ignorance upon our capacity of rendering service to God, Finney contended that
"present ignorance is present inability," and that this is as
absolute an inability as would be the present want of a hand. If, however, one
willingly remains in ignorance of God, this is not a natural inability, since
it is within the agent's power instantly to overcome it; as, for example, by
opening his eyes when willfully keeping them shut. But the present ignorance
of mankind cannot be instantaneously removed by an act of volition on the part
of men. Much of the ignorance of man is the natural effect of moral
delinquency. Neglect of duty occasions ignorance, and this ignorance, while it
remains, constitutes a natural inability to perform those duties of which the
mind is ignorant. For this neglect of duty God will hold men fully
responsible, and liable to punishment. But the present command for action has
reference solely to what is at present attainable by an effort of the will.

Total Depravity of the Race.

With these views of the freedom of the
will and the claims of the divine law upon man, Finney's position is already
defined with regard to the nature of human depravity, and the method of
regeneration and sanctification. Depravity he divides into physical and moral.
Physical depravity, as predicated of the mind, expresses the fact that its
powers, "either in substance, or in consequence of their connection with
and dependence upon the body, are in a diseased, lapsed, fallen, degenerate
state, so that the healthy action of these powers is not sustained."(74)
Such depravity has no moral character, but a person may be blameworthy for
having rendered himself physically depraved either in body or in mind. Moral
depravity is simply a choice at variance with moral right, and is synonymous
with sin. Man is both physically and morally depraved. There is no such thing
as perfect health in the world. The appetites, passions, and propensities are
in a state of most unhealthy development. The human mind is out of balance in
consequence of the monstrous development of the sensibility.

Attendant upon this natural depravity,
there is a universal moral depravity of the human race. Subsequent to the
commencement of moral agency, and previous to regeneration, sin is a universal
phenomenon. This Finney proves from the Bible, and by an appeal to history,
universal observation, and the universal consciousness of the unregenerate.
Still, while carefully distinguishing physical from moral depravity, and
insisting that sin is essentially an act of the will, and not an inherent
quality of the nature, he believes that there is an infallible connection
between the physical depravity of man and his moral depravity, and that
"we can predict, without the gift of prophecy, that with a constitution
physically depraved, and surrounded with objects to awaken appetite, and with
all the circumstances in which human beings first form their moral character,
they will seek universally to gratify themselves, unless prevented by the
illumination of the Holy Spirit."(75)
Later on, he even attempts to account for this universal moral depravity.

"The sensibility acts as a powerful
impulse to the will, from the moment of birth, and secures the consent and
activity of the will to procure its gratification before the reason is at all
developed. This committed state of the will is not moral depravity, and has no
moral character until the idea of moral obligation is developed. The moment
this idea is developed, this committal of the will to self-indulgence must be
abandoned, or it becomes selfishness, or moral depravity. But, as the will is
already in a state of committal, and has to some extent already formed the
habit of seeking to gratify feeling, and as the idea of moral obligation is at
first but feebly developed, unless the Holy Spirit interferes to shed light on
the soul, the will, as might be expected, retains its hold on
self-gratification."(76)

To the uninitiated it may seem that the
radical difference between Finney's views upon this point and those of Dr.
Hodge is not so great as they were accustomed to suppose, but that their
contentions were pretty largely the result of unfortunate phraseology. Finney
insisted that, while we were not born with natures actually sinful, our
natures were so constituted and circumstanced that sin was certain to be the
universal characteristic of our first activities. On the other hand, Hodge,
while holding most vigorously that, "in virtue of the union,
representative and natural, between Adam and his posterity, his sin is the
ground of their [man's] condemnation, that is, of their subjection to penal
evils," makes haste to add that the sin of Adam is no ground to us of
remorse," and "there is no transfer of the moral turpitude of his
sin to his descendants."(77)
A sin of nature which has no moral turpitude will not to most people seem much
of a sin, and will appear hardly distinguishable from Finney's "physical
depravity."

Nature of Regeneration.

As a logical result of his views
concerning the foundation of obligation and the nature of moral depravity,
Finney held, with the New School Calvinists in general, that regeneration and
conversion are practically synonymous terms, designating an occurrence in
which God and the sinner are coagents. This is in line with the positions
maintained in the sermon, already referred to, upon the duty of sinners to
make for themselves new hearts. Regeneration, according to Finney, "is a
radical change of the ultimate intention. . . . A selfish ultimate choice is a
wicked heart, out of which flows every evil; and a benevolent ultimate choice
is a good heart, out of which flows every good and commendable deed."(78)
To secure this change of ultimate intention, the instrumentalities necessary
are truth, and the means by which truth is made vivid to the mind. All the
appointed ordinances and ministrations of the church, the providences of God,
and, most of all, the direct agency of the Holy Spirit, force the truth upon
the soul as a motive inducing to repentance. Without the presence of divine
persuasive agencies, conversion is never secured, and ordinarily not without
the co-operation, also, of human instrumentality outside the agent.
Regeneration is not, like the breathing of the Spirit upon the dry bones of
Ezekiel's vision, a mere act of omnipotence. Still, according to Finney,
"regeneration is always induced and effected by the personal agency of
the Holy Spirit."(79)

But, although this is brought about by divine
moral suasion, there is no necessity of supposing a direct physical agency of
the Holy Spirit, acting upon the constitutional susceptibilities of the soul,
to quicken it and predispose it to be duly affected by the truth. There is a
natural adaptation in the truth, by whatever agency presented, to persuade the
soul into changing its ultimate choice, - that is, to make for itself a new
heart. As already said, however, this persuasive influence of the truth is
never effective except in connection with the direct operation of the Holy
Spirit. The importance which Finney attached to this position is seen in the
urgency with which, in his revival efforts, he always insisted upon prayer as
essential to success. It also seemed extremely important to him that we
maintain correct views upon this point, because thus only is the Holy Spirit
duly honored without disparaging the truth and the other agencies effective in
converting the world.

The practical bearing of the doctrine is set
forth by him as follows: -

"If sinners are to be regenerated
by the influence of truth, argument, and persuasion, then ministers can see
what they have to do, and how it is they are to be 'workers together with
God.' So, also, sinners may see that they are not to wait for a physical
regeneration or influence, but must submit to and embrace the truth, if they
ever expect to be saved. . . . When truth is made clear to the mind and is
resisted, the Holy Spirit is resisted, for this is his work, to make the mind
clearly to apprehend the truth. . . . Sinners are most likely to be
regenerated while sitting under the sound of the gospel, while listening to
the clear exhibition of truth. . . . Ministers should aim at and expect the
regeneration of sinners upon the spot, and before they leave the house of
God."(80)

In these views we have the foundation for
Finney's whole method of procedure in the promotion of revivals. He pressed
every consideration upon the attention of sinners just as heartily and freely
as if he expected to convert them himself. He urged upon all believers the
responsibility of praying for the co-operation of the Holy Spirit. He threw
upon the soul of the sinner the responsibility of immediately accepting or
rejecting the truth as then apprehended.

Finney's views respecting the foundation
of obligation and the nature of regeneration enabled him to speak with great
clearness and discrimination upon the evidences of regeneration and the
dangers of self-deception, subjects which were, as already remarked, very
prominent in his preaching, and which are duly dwelt upon in his
"Systematic Theology." Concisely stated, the contrast between the
regenerate and the unregenerate man is, that the regenerate man has submitted
himself to the control of reason and of the moral law of God, - in other
words, to the law of disinterested and universal benevolence; whereas the
sinner is not governed by reason and principle, but by feeling, desire, and
impulse. If you wish to move him, you must appeal strongly to his feeling. The
gales of excitement must be raised, and the mainspring of his impulsive action
must be touched and directed to rouse his will, before you can quicken him
into life. His feelings are his law. On the contrary, the saint has received
the will of God as the unfailing index pointing always to the path of duty. He
makes no calculations to sin in anything. He does not cast about, and pick and
choose among the commandments of God professing obedience to those that are
the least offensive to him, and trampling on those that call to a sterner
morality and to hardier self-denial. . . . He no more expects to take
advantage of his neighbor than he expects to rob him on the highway."(81)

In these statements of the essence of
sin, Finney has avoided a confusion which elsewhere pretty generally appears
in his principal definition, and in much of his discussion concerning the
nature of the sinful choice. Here he says correctly that sin consists in a
refusal to be governed by reason and principle, and in submission of the will
to the control of the feelings, desires, and impulses. But in other
connections he has pretty generally maintained that there is a unity of object
in the sinful choice similar to that which characterizes a virtuous choice. As
the virtuous choice centres on the good of universal being, so, he maintains,
the sinful choice is definitely centred upon self, and is thus synonymous with
selfishness. The infelicity of this form of statement has been pointed
out by President Fairchild, who makes it appear that sin is in no sense true
devotion to self-interest, and that the sinner is always aware of this. There
is no unity in the sinner's choice. He simply "gives rein to desire and
follows where it leads. He is carnally-minded. His life presents no definite,
self-consistent aim, like that of the good man. The desires themselves are
conflicting, and which shall be in the ascendant depends upon constitutional
organization, education, and changing circumstances. . . . The sinner always
knows that his life is unreasonable, contemplated in view of his pleasure, his
welfare, or his duty."(82)

Atonement.

In his statement of the doctrine of
justification, as well as in that of the atonement, the influence of Finney's
legal training comes prominently into view. Gospel justification consists, he
says, "not in the law pronouncing the sinner just, but in his being
ultimately governmentally treated as if he were just, that is, it consists in
a governmental decree of pardon or amnesty; in arresting and setting aside the
execution of the incurred penalty of law; in pardoning and restoring to favor
those who have sinned, and those whom the law had pronounced guilty, and upon
whom it had passed the sentence of eternal death, and rewarding them as if
they had been righteous. It is an act either of the law-making or executive
department of government, and is an act entirely aside from, and contrary to,
the forensic or judicial power or department of the government. It is an
ultimate treatment of the sinner as just; a practical, not a literal
pronouncing of him just. It is treating him as if he had been wholly
righteous, when in fact he has greatly sinned."(83)

In further defining justification,
Finney tries to distinguish between the ground of justification and the
conditions of its exercise, maintaining that the atonement of Christ was not
the ground, but simply one of the conditions, of justification. The ground (by
which he means the moving, procuring cause of justification, that in which the
plan of redemption originated as its source, and which was the fundamental
reason or ground of the whole movement) "was the benevolence and merciful
disposition of the whole Godhead, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. This love made
the atonement, but the atonement did not beget this love. The Godhead desired
to save sinners, but could not safely do so without danger to the universe,
unless something was done to satisfy public, not retributive justice. The
atonement was resorted to as a means of reconciling forgiveness with the
wholesome administration of justice."(84)

"Public justice required, either
that an atonement should be made, or that the law should be executed upon
every offender. By 'public justice' is intended that due administration of law
that shall secure, in the highest manner which the nature of the case admits,
private and public interests, and establish the order and well-being of the
universe. In establishing the government of the universe, God had given the
pledge, both impliedly and expressly, that He would regard the public
interests, and, by a due administration of the law, secure and promote, as far
as possible, public and individual happiness."(85)

If one were disposed to criticise this view,
he might show that, after all, Finney had failed, even on his own theory, to
point out the real ground of man's justification; for, in the ultimate
analysis, the real ground is, not the love of God, but the good of being,
which is promoted by the plan of justification. A necessary condition for
securing such a provision is, of course, the fact that God is love. Such
criticism, however, might seem to be an attempt at discriminating too closely
between a ground and a condition of action, and would probably end in still
greater confusion of thought.

Having thus stated the governmental necessity
of an atonement, Finney proceeded to show that the sufferings of Christ were
vicariously substituted for the punishment of such sinners as should, through
repentance, seek an interest in the sacrifice. Thus the atonement is universal
in the sense that its promises are open to all, and nothing but the sinner's
own neglect of duty can prevent participation in its advantages.

While the atonement of Christ is the primary
condition of justification, the condition upon man's part is an entire
consecration of heart to God in view of all which the atonement signifies.
This consecration of heart includes repentance for sin and faith in Christ. In
this Finney differed from many of his New School coadjutors, in that he made
entire consecration under the persuasive influences of the Holy Spirit precede
justification. For this he was severely criticised in this country by Dr.
Duffield in the pamphlet already referred to, and by the celebrated textual
critic, Tregelles, in England; and it must be confessed that, at first sight,
it seems difficult to understand how Finney's view of justification could be
maintained under the Calvinistic system, which involves the doctrine of the
perseverance of the saints; that is, of the ultimate salvation and
glorification of those who have once been justified. But, as will be seen
later, Finney experienced no more difficulty upon this point than he did in
maintaining, notwithstanding his belief in the self-determining power of the
will, the total depravity of the human race previous to regeneration. Finney
did, indeed, protest vigorously against the doctrine, maintained by many, that
the soul once justified is always justified, and maintained that the penitent
soul remains justified no longer than this full-hearted consecration
continues; and still he did not believe that the justified soul would ever
fail of ultimate salvation, but held that the first experience of
justification established such relations between God and the sinner that God
could wisely interfere to guard and keep him to the end.

Sanctification.

Since Finney's position with regard to the
doctrine of entire sanctification in this life drew upon him severe criticism
from almost every side, it is important to ascertain exactly what it was, and
what was the occasion of the opposition aroused against it. As already
intimated, his attention was turned to the doctrine after he came to Oberlin,
and when he was laboring under some depression of mind, in view both of the
apparent decadence of the revival spirit of earlier years, and of the
relatively low attainments in piety which both he and his converts had made.
To counteract this tendency and supply the lack in his previous preaching, he
set himself to the work of unfolding more fully the riches of God's promises
in the gospel, and of setting forth the exalted privileges of the believer. In
this effort he simply followed in the line of his views already formulated
with reference to regeneration. Regeneration is, in his view, the beginning of
an entire consecration of the soul to God and the interests of his universe.
This consecration is practically secured by intensifying the motives to
holiness. As the soul is moved to righteousness by the truth, this is brought
about only through the enlargement of the sinner's conception of truth.

The agents in the presentation of truth
are the various means of grace as applied by the church, and God himself,
acting through providence, and, more directly still, through the Holy Spirit.
What Finney aimed to impress upon the Christian public was, that those
agencies which secured entire consecration at the beginning of the Christian
life might rationally be expected to secure afterwards a permanent state of
consecration, and that this was what he meant by the term
"sanctification." In his views upon this point he agreed with
Emmons, who regarded the sanctification of believers as "precisely the
same as continued regeneration."(86)

The exact position maintained at Oberlin was
clearly set forth in a declaration of sentiments issued by a convention of
those interested in the doctrine of entire sanctification in this life, held
at Rochester, N. Y., in July, 1841, and of which Finney was a prominent
member.

After premising that the opponents of this
doctrine occupy the singular position of holding that "it is fatal not to
aim at and pray for this attainment in this life," and at the same time
"that it is a dangerous error to believe or expect that we shall make
this attainment," they proceed to define their own position as follows:

"The advocates of this doctrine affirm
that obedience to the moral law, or a state of entire consecration to God in
this life, is in such a sense attainable as to be an object of rational
pursuit with the expectation of attaining it.

"We do not believe that the moral law is
or ever can be repealed, or so modified in its claims as to demand anything
less of any moral agent than the entire, universal, and constant devotion of
his whole being to God.

"We do not believe that any such state is
attainable in this or any other life as to preclude the possibility and
necessity of constant growth in holiness.

"Nor do we believe that any state is
attainable in this life that will put the soul beyond a state of warfare with
temptation.

"We do not believe that any such state is
attainable in this life as will preclude the necessity of constant dependence
upon the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the agency and indwelling of the
Holy Spirit.

"We do not believe that any such state is
attainable in this life as to preclude the necessity of much watchfulness and
prayer, together with the diligent use of the ordinances of God's house, and
of all the appointed means of grace, to perpetuate holiness of heart.

"We do not believe in any system of
quietism, Antinomianism, or inaction in religion.

"We do not regard the true question at
issue between us to be, whether a state of entire sanctification has ever been
attained in this life; but the true question is that which has been stated
above, to wit, Is this state attainable in such a sense as to render its
pursuit, with the expectation of attaining it, rational?

"Those of us who have affirmed that
this state has been attained, have ever regarded the fact of its attainment
only in the light of an argument in proof of its attainability in the sense
above explained."(87)

President Fairchild takes issue with Finney
respecting this doctrine, and contends that his arguments for permanent
consecration are mostly misdirected, being applicable merely to the
attainability of entire consecration at any moment, and that no present
experience can furnish assurance of the future; but Finney never acknowledged
any flaw in the argument, and maintained to the end the importance of the
doctrine as above stated. His defense of it, however, rests not upon the mere
fact of human ability, but upon his conception of the riches of God's grace,
and does not fail to emphasize the idea of man's dependence upon the work of
Christ and of the Holy Spirit. If there is any mystery or seeming
contradiction in this view, it is only of the same kind as that attending the
whole system of gracious influences, and especially the doctrine that those
influences shall preserve saints forever in heaven. As the love of Christ has
there become all-controlling, so, he believes, it is not too much to hope that
the believer may here feel the force of the "expulsive power of this new
affection" to such a degree that he shall come into a permanent state of
obedience.

Still, Finney did not encourage any to
announce themselves as living in a permanent state of entire consecration. Nor
was he ever known to speak of himself as having attained that state. He knew
too well the deceitfulness of the human heart and the fallibility of memory to
encourage such claims, and so, as the declaration expresses it, attention was
to be turned, not to the question whether any were now actually attaining this
state, but whether it was attainable in any such sense that it could
rationally be striven after. The believer's great need, according to Finney,
is to have such a revelation of the great truths of the gospel that they shall
serve as a counterpoise to the abnormal development of the lower propensities.
It should therefore be the aim of preachers and teachers, he maintained, so to
exalt the character and work of Christ that disloyalty to Him shall seem as
odious as a child's disloyalty to his mother, or a patriot's to the flag of
his country. The gist of the whole philosophy of the matter is in the
following extract: "This can only be done by the revelation to the inward
man, by the Holy Spirit, of those great and solemn and overpowering realities
of the spirit land that lie concealed from the eye of flesh."

"We often see those around us whose
sensibility is so developed in some one direction, that they are led captive
by appetite and passion in that direction, in spite of reason and of God. The
inebriate is an example of this. The glutton, the licentious, the avaricious
man, etc., are examples of this. We sometimes, on the other hand, see, by some
striking providence, such a counter development of the sensibility produced,
as to slay and put down those particular tendencies, and the whole direction
of the man's life seems to be changed; and, outwardly at least, it is so. From
being a perfect slave to his appetite for strong drink, he cannot, without the
utmost loathing and disgust, so much as hear the name of his once loved
beverage mentioned. From being a most avaricious man he becomes deeply
disgusted with wealth, and spurns and despises it. Now, this has been effected
by a counter development of the sensibility; for, in the case supposed,
religion has nothing to do with it. Religion does not consist in the state of
the sensibility, nor in the will's being influenced by the sensibility; but
sin consists in the will's being thus influenced. One great thing that needs
to be done, to confirm and settle the will in the attitude of entire
consecration to God, is to bring about a counter development of the
sensibility, so that it will not draw the will away from God. It needs to be
mortified or crucified to the world, to objects of time and sense, by so deep
and clear and powerful a revelation of self to self, and of Christ to the
soul, as to awaken and develop all its susceptibilities in their relations to
Him, and to spiritual and divine realities. This can easily be done through
and by the Holy Spirit, who takes of the things of Christ and shows them to
us. He so reveals Christ that the soul receives Him to the throne of the
heart, and to reign throughout the whole being. When the will, the intellect,
and the sensibility are yielded to Him, He develops the intelligence and the
sensibility by clear revelations of himself in all his offices and relations
to the soul, confirms the will, mellows and chastens the sensibility, by these
divine revelations to the intelligence."(88)

In Finney's discussion of this subject there
follow one hundred and thirty pages in which he unfolds the various aspects of
Christ's nature and relations adapted to quicken our spiritual
susceptibilities, and to set at work the needed counteracting agencies spoken
of. Of these he enumerates no less than sixty-one. The Holy Spirit needs, he
says, to reveal Christ to us as king; as mediator; as advocate; as redeemer;
as our justification, our judge, the repairer of the breach, the propitiation
for our sins, the surety of a better than the first covenant; as dying for our
sins; as risen for our justification; as bearing our griefs and carrying our
sorrows; as the one by whose stripes we are healed; as being made sin for us;
as the one on whose shoulders is the government of the world; as head of all
things to the church; as having all power in heaven and earth; as the prince
of peace; as the captain of salvation; as our passover, our wisdom, and our
sanctification; as the redemption of the soul; as our prophet and high priest;
as the bread of life; as the fountain of the water of life; as the true God
and eternal life; as our own life; as all in all; as the resurrection and the
life; as the bridegroom or husband of the soul; as the shepherd, the door, the
way of salvation, the truth, the true light; as Christ within us; as our
strength, the keeper of our souls, our friend, and elder brother, the true
vine, the fountain opened in the house of David; as Jesus the Saviour; as he
whose blood cleanseth from all sin; as the wonderful, counselor, the mighty
God; as our shield, our portion, our hope, our salvation, and the rock of our
salvation; as the rock cleft in the wilderness, the great rock that is higher
than we, rising amidst the burning sands of our pilgrimage, under the cooling
shadow of which the soul can find repose and comfort; as the rock from which
the soul is satisfied with honey; as the rock on which the church is built; as
the strength of our hearts; and, finally, as the one through whom we can
reckon ourselves dead indeed unto sin, but alive to God.

Finney did not hold that we could be
expected fully to realize all these aspects of Christ at once; "but that,
when tried from time to time, a new revelation of Christ to the soul,
corresponding to the temptation, or as the help of the soul in such
circumstances, is a condition of its remaining steadfast. This gracious aid or
revelation is abundantly promised in the Bible, and will be made in time, so
that, by laying hold on Christ in the present revealed relation, the soul may
be preserved blameless, though the furnace of temptation be heated seven times
better than it is wont to be. . . . Sanctification is by faith as opposed to
works. That is, faith receives Christ in all his offices, and in all the
fullness of his relations to the soul; and Christ, when received, works in the
soul to will and to do of all his good pleasure, not by a physical, but by a
moral or persuasive working. Observe, He influences the will. This must be by
a moral influence, if its actings are intelligent and free, as they must be to
be holy. That is, if He influences the will to obey God, it must be by a
divine moral suasion. The soul never in any instance obeys in a spiritual and
true sense except it be thus influenced by the indwelling Spirit of
Christ."(89)

Finney's estimate of the practical importance
of the doctrine of sanctification as he presented it appeared in many ways. In
letters written to friends while laboring in England in 1858-59, he repeatedly
referred to the low standard tolerated and aimed at by professing Christians,
and attributed it largely to the fact that the prevailing doctrine of
justification was erroneous in its conception, and Antinomian in its tendency.
Sinners were taught to believe that entire consecration was not expected of
them, except at occasional intervals, and that they could not rationally hope
to attain anything but a spasmodic obedience to God. He felt, therefore, that
he had a mission in England, as elsewhere, to raise the standard of Christian
hope and endeavor, and so of Christian life.

These ideas were also abundantly
developed in his "Lectures on Systematic Theology," where the
relation of hope to the instigation of activity and the attainment of result
is set forth at length, and where the extent and grounds of that hope with
reference to entire sanctification are clearly presented. In this part of the
discussion he maintains that whatever removes hope from the human mind cuts
the nerve of all activity; for, however ardently we may desire the attainment
of an object, the incentive to action will be entirely lacking unless the
desire is accompanied with some degree of expectation. No one will use means
for the accomplishment of an end unless he believes there is some possibility
of connection between the use of the means and the attainment of his purpose.
Religion can be undermined with equal effect by representing it either as
undesirable or as impossible of attainment. Hence, on the one hand, Finney
protests strongly against those representations of Christianity which
"throw around and over it a fanatical or a melancholic or a superstitious
cant, whining, grimace, or a severity and hatefulness that necessarily disgust
rather than attract the enlightened mind,"(90)
and, on the other hand, represents the consequences as equally fatal if
religious attainments are held to be desirable, but beyond our reach, for
obligation is only commensurate with ability. If, therefore, men are to be
exhorted to entire obedience, and a perfect standard is to be held up as
obligatory upon them, it is essential to insist upon the practicability of its
attainment. Finney's real aim, therefore, was to elevate the standard of
practicable attainment by insisting upon the unlimited privileges of the
believer. In exalting the promises he was exalting the standard of hope and
expectations.(91)

Addressing Calvinists who believe in the
doctrine that all who have once experienced regeneration will certainly be
kept from final apostasy, and so be saved, Finney contends that it is no more
irrational to hope, on the basis of past experiences, for complete
sanctification in this life, than to hope, on the same basis, for ultimate
victory, and contends that the same degree of doubt may exist as to the
reality of personal regeneration as exists with reference to the experiences
which give hope of a permanent state of sanctification in this life. In
expanding this point, he urges with force that all must admit "that most
Christians might rationally hope to be indefinitely better than they
are," and that the only rational ground for this hope is in the promised
indwelling of the Holy Spirit. The same promises and rational grounds, upon
which persons may hope to be better than they are, furnish also the basis for
the fuller hope of coming into a state of permanent consecration or
sanctification. In this connection, Finney dwelt much upon such passages of
Scripture as Eph. iv. 13, where the apostle declares it to be the will of God
that the saints should be perfected, and should come to the measure of the
stature of the fullness of Christ; and 2 Peter i. 4, where it is said that
through divine power believers are made partakers of the divine nature, having
"escaped from the corruption that is in the world by lust." To the
objection drawn from experience that it is easier to keep us from sin
"generally than uniformly," it is replied that we do not know this.
It may be as easy for God to "give us a complete victory as to suffer us
to sin, and then to recover us again. At any rate," he contends, "it
is just as truly rational to expect" the fulfillment of the promises
holding out to us a hope of permanence in our consecration in this life as of
those relating to final perseverance.

A natural tendency of Finney's doctrine of
sanctification is to raise in the minds of those accepting it innumerable
perplexing questions of casuistry, so that sensitive souls are in danger of
becoming despondent over their shortcomings in trifling matters. If, as Finney
contends, the "choice of the good of being" involves the choice of
all the known means calculated to promote that end, so complicated is the
scheme of the universe that it would seem a very hazardous operation to touch
any of its secret springs, especially if God is so strict in marking
iniquities that to fail in one point is to be guilty of all. This tendency of
the doctrine, when connected with that view of justification which makes it
ineffectual except so far as it is accompanied by sanctification, was early
brought to Finney's attention by the perplexities into which many of his
followers fell, and he devoted much time and strength to the task of setting
the matter in its right light. In doing this, he was careful not to lower the
standard of the divine law, but spent much effort in defining the limitations
of ignorance under which the mind is compelled to act.

Among the most interesting and instructive of
the cases of perplexity coming before him is that of a lady in Vermont, who,
about the year 1845, confided to him, by correspondence, the difficulties she
found in making her life conform to the high ideal which Finney's doctrine had
seemed to impose upon her. In her anxiety to adopt a perfect standard of
obedience, it appears that she had formed a solemn resolution to devote
certain portions of the day to prayer, and she was greatly distressed in mind
because she did not succeed in so arranging her other duties as to avoid
interference with these hours of devotion. Finney met her difficulty in a
letter published in the "Oberlin Evangelist" by explainingthat
we have no right to make an unalterable resolution which might clash with the
duties imposed upon us by God's providential arrangement of our lives. He
tells her that our duty to appropriate a certain hour to rest or exercise, to
sleep, to prayer, to refreshment, to labor, to recreation, to study, to
meditation, to visiting the poor, to taking care of the sick, or to any of ten
thousand other supposable things, depends entirely upon the circumstances of
the case, and that we should never promise to do or omit anything that may be
inconsistent with the circumstances in which Providence may place us.
Providence, he assures her, is nothing else than a great book of divine
revelation in which we are passing over successive chapters and pages and
verses day by day, and its behests, so far as we are able to understand them,
are as binding as a written revelation, or even an audible voice from heaven.
She therefore must be careful not to take the whole ordering of her life into
her own hands.

In a second communication, Finney answers the
good woman's perplexities concerning dress. It appears that, in the high
standard of duty which she had adopted, she had come to cherish a morbid fear
of conforming to the fashion of the world, and was afraid that she would sin
if she should change the form of her dress. Instead of setting aside the
difficulties with a sneer, Finney enters into an argument with her to show
that variety both in diet and in dress is necessary for the good of the human
race; that it is made necessary by the constitution of our nature; and that
the beautiful is a proximate good of great value which she is not to despise;
and, except in telling her that she is not to pay too high a price for the
beautiful by unduly sacrificing other interests, he has little advice to give,
only that she is to avoid extravagance and whatever is injurious to health and
inconsistent with pure and correct taste, and that her dress is to be
determined in a great degree by the society in which she moves. There may be
as much danger that she should think too little of her dress as that she
should think too much of it, and he warns her that she is to discriminate
carefully between scrupulousness and conscientiousness.

This correspondent was also troubled upon the
subject of wearing mourning apparel at the death of her friends. This, again,
Finney discusses with her with gentle condescension, entering into the
argument pro and con, touching especially upon that of the
inordinate expense likely to be incurred, and the subtle danger of pride
entering in as a motive leading to funeral display. But he points out that
what she is to do is dependent largely upon her family and social relations,
and upon the wishes of her husband, or, if her parents are living, upon their
desires. In closing he dwells on the fact that such struggles as she is
passing through in her efforts to settle these embarrassing questions are the
common lot of humanity, and by no mean,; imply that she is alienated from her
Saviour. On the contrary, they are in the line of Christ's own experiences,
and are such as prepare us to share with Him in his glory.

From the fourth letter to this same lady, it
seems that she was also greatly exercised by fears that she had failed of her
duty to speak or pray in certain public meetings. In respect to this, Finney
reminds her that mere suggestions, impulses, and feelings are not a sufficient
ground for determining one's duty on such occasions. While holding that it is
perfectly proper for a woman to speak in a conference meeting, the propriety
of exercising the privilege, he tells her, must be determined in view of all
the attendant circumstances. From her statement of the case, his opinion is,
that Satan is trying to make her appear ridiculous. She must take into account
the public sentiment in her community, and the views of her friends, in
determining what is proper and right in the case.

In the same letter, replying to her queries
about what she should eat and drink, Finney confesses that when he first read
Graham's works on physiology and dietetics, he was deeply interested in them,
and, as it was at the time the best light, as he supposed, which he could get,
he became very scrupulous in his conformity to Graham's views. "But after
a while," he says, "I found myself in complete bondage to what is
called Grahamism." He adds that where some are manifestly in bondage to
their appetite, and have no command over themselves, others are in equal
bondage to Grahamism or some other ism, and so are in danger of
starving themselves to death before they can get a particular kind of diet.

Another general question, upon which Finney's
followers were perplexed, related to the intensity of feeling which should
accompany their virtuous volitions. This he solved by pointing out that no
executive volition calls for any more force of feeling than is required to
secure it. The amount of feeling which we can endure is limited by the amount
of our physical strength, and the law of economy would dissuade us from
wasting our energies. We should save our strength in order to concentrate it
upon the supreme efforts of life. Steadiness of purpose does not involve
either an iron-clad uniformity of outward action or a dead level of emotion,
either high or low.

Election and Reprobation.

Upon these doctrines Finney held to the
essential Calvinistic forms of statement, agreeing in this with the New School
Calvinists of that time in accepting the facts of the case, but insisting on
an explanation of their ground which should be in consistency with their view
of the freedom of the will. Finney's statement is, that God does indeed
"bestow on men unequal measures of gracious influence, but that in this
there is nothing arbitrary." He bestows upon all sufficient grace to
secure their salvation if properly improved. He does for all as much as He
wisely can, but the Creator's knowledge enables Him to see beforehand at what
points in his moral government He can concentrate influences, as, for example,
upon the Apostle Paul, so as to secure a result different from what would have
occurred under the ordinary means of grace. If conversions like that of Paul
were the ordinary mode of entering the kingdom of heaven, every one would look
for and expect the same degree of attention, and what is now extraordinary
would come to have no more persuasive force than the ordinary. The problem
before the divine mind was to give greatest influence to the system as a
whole, and in doing this the system must be so arranged that common means of
grace shall not be supplanted by the more violent demonstrations of power.

The crucial question, however, in
determining one's Calvinistic position, is, "Was election in the order of
nature subsequent to, or did it precede, the divine foreknowledge?" To
this Finney gives the Calvinistic as distinguished from the Arminian answer,
namely, that logically the knowledge of what could wisely be done precedes the
knowledge of what ought to be done; and that the knowledge of what ought to be
done precedes, in the divine mind, the knowledge of what would be done.
"Foreknowledge of what would be done followed or was subsequent to
election."(92)

This position concerning election, or
the positive bestowment of gracious privileges designed to lead men to
repentance, involves also a doctrine of reprobation. In deciding upon the
system as a whole, God must have designed the points of lesser privilege as
well as of greater opportunities. In this He is dealing with a problem which
is limited by the existence of logical contradictions; as, for example, in the
inducements brought upon men to supply their temporal wants, man is ordinarily
compelled to sow and reap, and gather into barns, and thresh and grind and
cook, before he can provide himself with bread. It is only on extraordinary
occasions that God has Provided manna from heaven, and multiplied loaves and
fishes without stint. Such extraordinary provisions could not be claimed as
the right of all, without throwing discredit upon the ordinary means, and
robbing them of their salutary stimulus. So, in the distribution of the
persuasive influences of the spiritual world, every one has sufficient to
insure his salvation if rightly used, but he has no absolute claim upon the
store of extraordinary privileges. Some must be content with the common
conditions of life. As a benevolent being, God must resign such to their fate.
This is reprobation. No means are used designing to make them sinful. The
simple case is, that God cannot bestow a superabundance of opportunity upon
them without robbing himself of the power of urging greater motives upon other
objects of his creative love. With reference to the lost, we must suppose that
"God regards their destruction as a less evil to the universe than would
be such a change in the administration and arrangements of his government as
would secure their salvation. Therefore, for their foreseen wickedness and
perseverance in rebellion, under circumstances the most favorable to their
virtue and salvation in which He can wisely place them, He is resolved upon
their destruction, and has already in purpose cast them off forever."(93)

Divine Sovereignty.

In his statement of the doctrine of divine
sovereignty, Finney exerted himself to the utmost to avoid any contradiction
of the rational principles of benevolence. The "sovereignty of God,"
he contends, "is nothing else than infinite benevolence directed by
infinite knowledge." The knowledge of God is such that it cannot be
increased by other counselors, and hence He must act upon that knowledge,
however far above the comprehension of his creatures it may be. It is in
accepting the prerogative of the Divine Being to do things which are above our
sight, that the strongest demands are made upon faith. This aspect of the
Creator's activities also leaves room and creates a demand for a special
revelation of the Divine to man. It is possible to conceive that the entire
will of God could be inferred at each point of time from the pulsations of
force in every portion of space in the universe; but such a feat of
interpretation would involve in the interpreter the possession of infinite
knowledge and experience. In this appears the absurdity of pure rationalism.
The human reason is not competent to attempt a complete interpretation of
every portion of the universe coming within its purview. It is easier for the
Creator to give the reason assurance of the reality of a special revelation
than to give it confidence in its attempts to unravel from experience his
entire scheme of action.

With all the emphasis which Finney lays upon
the freedom of the human will, he still falls back, for comfort and support,
upon the thought that, though God is infinite and his ways inscrutable, we
still have abundant evidence that all He does is prompted by love and guided
by perfect wisdom, and concludes his chapter upon this subject with one of
those characteristic passages which relieve his ponderous work from dullness:
-

"A proper understanding of God's
universal agency and sovereignty, of the perfect wisdom and benevolence of
every measure of his government, providential and moral, is essential,"
he says, "to the best improvement of all his dispensations toward us, and
to those around us. When it is understood that God's hand is directly or
indirectly in everything that occurs, and that He is infinitely wise and good,
and equally wise and good in every single dispensation; that He has one end
steadily and always in view; that He does all for one and the same ultimate
end, and that this end is the highest good of himself and of universal being;
I say, when these things are understood and considered, there is a divine
sweetness in all his dispensations. There is then a divine reasonableness, and
amiableness, and kindness, thrown like a broad mantle of infinite love over
all his character, works, and ways. The soul, in contemplating such a sacred,
universal, holy sovereignty, takes on a sweet smile of delightful complacency,
and feels secure, and reposes in perfect peace, surrounded and supported by
the everlasting arms."(94)

Perseverance of Saints.

With reference to the perseverance of
saints, Finney encounters, as has already been shown, the same metaphysical
difficulties which were urged against his doctrine of entire sanctification in
this life. If the will is free, it is often asked, how can there be any
certainty of its future action? But that there may be such certainty, all hold
who believe that the saints in heaven will remain immutable in their happy
condition. Certainty, therefore, does not necessarily contradict freedom, even
in the opinion of Arminians. On the same ground, Finney maintained that the
connection between regeneration and final glorification might be made certain
without any necessary abrogation of human freedom, and thus without
inconsistency he was able fully to believe "that all who are at any time
true saints of God are preserved by his grace and spirit through faith, in the
sense that, subsequently to regeneration, obedience is their rule, and
disobedience only the exception; and that being thus kept they will certainly
be saved with an everlasting salvation."(95)

But the attainment of final salvation implies
the use and improvement of all the means and gracious influences provided in
the case. To the question, Is there no danger that a regenerate person will
fall away? Finney answers, Yes and No. In the sense of there being danger that
a skillful pilot will run his ship upon the rocks if he is negligent of his
duty, Yes. But in the sense of there being danger that this pilot will be
criminally negligent of his duty, No. It may be that the very presence and
prominence of the possible danger is a means of preventing the actual danger.
The illustration which Finney uses, although written before the days of
Blondin, is that of a person who should attempt to cross the gorge below the
falls of Niagara upon a rope stretched from brink to brink. If he relaxes his
effort for a single instant, he will fail. But the very presence of the danger
keeps him from relaxing his effort, and confidence in his success is in part
the means of bestowing upon him the power to attain it through the use of the
means. It is thus that Paul, with his shipwrecked companions, made the most
scrupulous use of means, although a positive divine promise of security had
been made to him.

The proof of the doctrine of the
perseverance of saints is, with Finney, entirely scriptural, but of this he
finds such an abundance as effectually to overcome the great hesitancy which,
from theoretical considerations, he at first felt in giving adhesion to it. He
finds the Scriptures teaching "the persevering nature of true religion
through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit." By the phrase
"persevering nature of true religion" he does not mean "that
religion, as it exists in the hearts of the saints in this life, would of
itself, if unsupported by the grace and indwelling Spirit of God, prevail and
triumph over his enemies; but the thing intended is, that, through the
faithfulness of God, He that has begun, or shall begin, a good work in my
heart will perfect it unto the day of Jesus Christ."(96)

It is instructive to recall that when, at
last, in the silence of the midnight hour, Finney, with his fingers upon his
failing pulse, saw that death was approaching, he had no ecstatic vision, but
simply said, "I have not apostatized, have I?" The pathos of these
dying words is fully seen only by recalling a few paragraphs written by him
more than thirty years before, when treating of the doctrine now in question.

"It is also admitted," he then
wrote, "that the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints is liable to
abuse, and often is abused by the carnal and deceived professor; but is this a
good reason for rejecting it, and for withholding its consolations from the
tempted, tempest-tossed saint? By no means. Such are the circumstances of
temptation from within and without, in which the saints are placed in this
life, that when they are made really acquainted with themselves, and are
brought to a proper appreciation of the circumstances in which they are, they
have but little rational ground of hope, except what is found in this
doctrine. The natural tendency and inevitable consequence of a thorough
revelation of themselves to themselves would be to beget despair, but for the
covenanted grace and faithfulness of God. What saint, who has ever been
revealed to himself by the Holy Spirit, has not seen what Paul saw when he
said, 'In me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing'? Who that has been
made acquainted with himself does not know that he never did and never will
take one step towards heaven, except as he is anticipated and drawn by the
grace of God in Christ Jesus? Who that knows himself does not understand that
he never would have been converted but for the grace of God anticipating and
exciting the first motions of his mind in a right direction? And what true
saint does not know that, such are his former habitudes, and such the
circumstances of trial under which he is placed, and such the downward
tendency of his own soul on account of his physical depravity, that although
converted he shall not persevere for an hour, except the indwelling grace and
Spirit of God shall hold him up, and quicken him in the path of holiness?

"It shocks and distresses me to hear
professed Christians talk of being saved at all, except upon the ground of the
anticipating, and persevering, and sin-overcoming, and hell-subduing grace of
God in Christ Jesus. Why, I should as soon expect the Devil to be saved as
that any saint on earth will be, if left, with all the promises of God in his
hands, to stand and persevere without the drawings, and inward teachings, and
over-persuading influences of the Holy Spirit. . . . This doctrine, though
liable to abuse by hypocrites, is nevertheless the sheet anchor of the saints
in the hours of conflict.

"I could no more hope that myself
or any one else would persevere in holiness in our best estate, even for one
day or hour, if not kept by the power of God through faith, than I could hope
to fly to heaven."(97)

CHAPTER VIII.

PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS.

THE secret of Finney's prolonged influence in
Oberlin cannot be fully understood without a closer insight into his private
life and personal characteristics. With this in view, it is important to note
that Finney was a true gentleman, by every instinct of his nature as well as
by the habitual schooling of his conduct, ever solicitous for the interest of
others, and full of sympathy for them in all their trials and temptations. His
native humility was manifest in his very errors concerning methods of
education. Not having been through the prescribed course of study himself, it
was difficult for him at times to understand why any one could not at the age
of twenty-nine be taken from the calling in which he had been successful, and
by a short course be transformed into a powerful preacher like himself. So
thoroughly did he realize his own dependence upon the aid of the Spirit, and
upon the co-operation of the Christian people by whom he was surrounded, that
he was oblivious to the part played in his marvelous career by his own
abilities. It is even a more striking evidence of his genuine humility and
courtesy that for forty years he could co-operate heartily in the work of a
great school where he was constantly overruled by the judgment of his
associates as to many details in educational methods.

It was contrary to all of Finney's natural
tastes and habits to work through ecclesiastical machinery. He aimed rather to
avoid synods and general assemblies, and could have little patience in
listening to the discussions of the petty technicalities occupying so much of
the time of ecclesiastical bodies. Least of all could he endure the party
rivalries so often appearing in them. Considerable prejudice was at one time
worked up against him in view of a report that on some public occasion he had
said there was a jubilee in hell whenever the Presbyterian General Assembly
met; but as sober-minded historians look back over the wranglings which led to
the division of 1837, they have come to think that he was not far wrong in
this opinion.

Finney was still living when the First
National Congregational Council met at Oberlin in 1871, and he attended some
of its sessions. As this grave body was heatedly discussing what it should
call itself, - whether a council, a conference, an association, a convention,
or something else, it was interesting to see the expression of merriment on
his face at the comical aspect of the scene; and yet, a few moments
afterwards, when, in the order of business, he was to address the members upon
the gift of the Holy Spirit, notwithstanding the weight of fourscore years
under which his physical frame was bent, his mind kindled in view of the great
themes that it had ever been his object to expound, and he treated the subject
so tenderly and delicately as completely to disarm the prejudice of those who
had been his lifelong opponents with respect to doctrinal questions. The
triumph was complete; the whole audience was suffused with tears as their
thoughts were turned from their trifling topics of ecclesiastical machinery
toward Christ himself and his salvation.

As an illustration of Finney's candor, it is
related that when he was laboring in Boston, in 1843, a portion of the city
was excited, and many of the people were being misled, by the preaching of
William Miller, who was at that time announcing the speedy end of the world.
Finney was urged to controvert his views, but rather than to do it in public
he chose to visit Miller and secure a private conference. This he did, and,
having previously read carefully all of Miller's books, so that he knew where
the weakness of his argument was, he succeeded in convincing him to some
extent of his error, and thus partially limited the lamentable consequences
naturally following from a widespread acceptance of Miller's mistaken
theories. This attitude of candor, and of carefulness about accepting premises
incapable of proof, characterized Finney throughout his life, and had much to
do with the marked success which he attained as teacher, author, and preacher.

The sincerity of Finney's heart exhibited
itself in a very touching manner in a scene which I myself witnessed some time
in the year 1856. It was at the Sabbath services in the First Church at
Oberlin. In the morning he began a sermon upon the training of children; and,
as was frequently the case, continued until the clock struck twelve, then
stopped suddenly short, saying that he would finish in the afternoon. In the
afternoon he took up the subject where he had left it, but for some cause did
not have his wonted freedom of utterance. The reason was soon made apparent.
Pausing abruptly, he said: "Brethren, why am I trying to instruct you on
the subject of training your children in the fear of God, when I do not know
that a single one of my own children gives evidence of having been
converted?" He burst into tears, knelt down in the pulpit, offered a few
words of prayer, and dismissed the audience. It is but just to say that this
is freed from all suspicion of being designed for effect by the fact that his
children were not then present; and it is but just to them to say, also, that
none of them were by any means irreverent or disobedient, and that all
subsequently became active and efficient members of the Christian church.

Finney's sense of humor was intensely keen,
and it was a constant struggle for him to confine its exercise to proper
occasions. This, however, he very uniformly succeeded in doing. Being asked at
one time by his pupils why he never had preached upon the text which compares
the wicked to those who forsake the fountain of living water, and hew out for
themselves broken cisterns that can hold no water, he replied that the picture
was so ludicrous, and the folly so extraordinary, of a man's forsaking a
living fountain, and spending his time trying to get water by working a
creaking, leaky pump in an empty cistern, that he did not dare trust himself
before an audience with it.

Very naturally Oberlin drew to itself a number
of eccentric and ill-balanced people, whose zeal for the principles of the
place was not always in accordance with knowledge. One of these was a Mrs. J.,
who was greatly interested in the doctrine of entire sanctification, and was
much given in prayer-meeting to bemoaning the defects of her neighbors. In one
of these meetings, when Finney was presiding, she recounted in tearful tones
the sacrifices which she and her husband had made in leaving their distant
home and coming to Oberlin on account of their interest in the doctrines here
maintained; but she was grieved to confess that she found a great many people
here who were still unsanctified, and, indeed, there were very few who came up
to the high standard which could properly be expected of them. "Sister
J., Sister J.," said President Finney, interrupting her, "what have
you been doing to make the place better since you came here? Have you made the
place any better since you came here?" Sister J. was confounded, and
neither she nor any one else failed to see the point.

At another time a Deacon C., at Oberlin, who
was very good, but rather contentious and much given to eloquence in the
prayer-meeting, began to dilate upon the imperfections both of the place and
of the pastor. Among other things he said:

The best man that I ever knew was Deacon M.,
way down in Berkshire County, Massachusetts. But he was a very humble man. He
always acknowledged himself to be a great sinner, and confessed that
everything that he did was sinful. Though he was the best man I ever knew, he
used to say that every prayer he offered to God was so full of sin that it was
not fit to be received until the blood of Christ had washed it white as
snow." As Deacon C. waxed more and more eloquent in this strain, Finney,
who was leading the meeting, sat for some time quietly in his chair, but
finally, placing his hand on his forehead, and unable longer to suppress the
unfeigned agony of his soul, he repeated twice, with a groan, "Brother
C., Brother C., you need to break down! you need to break down!" Brother
C. looked around over the audience, began to perceive the unseemliness of his
censorious remarks, and said, "I guess it is about time for me to sit
down." Not another word was said upon the point, and the current of the
meeting flowed on with its wonted power.

This incident may serve a good purpose in
explaining the phrase "breaking down," which has appeared several
times in reference to Finney's work. Nettleton, for example, spoke of
"breaking down" as one of the reprehensible processes connected with
Finney's revivals. But, as this incident shows, the breaking down of which
Finney used to speak was a breaking down of the heart into the gentleness of
Christ's love and compassion. One of his own most frequent experiences was
this very breaking down of his sensibilities in view of what Christ had done
for him and for the world.

Finney was ever in the best of personal
relations with all the professors and citizens of Oberlin, and was most genial
and lively in his companionships. While he saw clearly the personal weaknesses
of his friends, his good-humor was such that he could joke about them without
giving offense. This is well illustrated in the following incident, vouched
for by the person upon whom the joke was played.

One of the professors, with whom Finney was
very intimate, and for whom he had the highest esteem, was rather phlegmatic
in his movements, and there was often considerable delay in getting a response
when his door-bell was rung. At one time, however, the response by one of the
children was rather quicker than usual. But upon opening the door, he found
that Finney had rung the bell and then turned back, being already at the
door-yard gate on his way to the street. Looking around as he heard the door
opened, Finney said: "Why, is that you, George? You need not have been in
so much of a hurry. I was on my way to the post-office, and I thought I would
ring the bell as I went along, and stop as I came back."

In a preceding chapter (p. 171) a quotation on
the sin of heedlessly borrowing tools was made from one of Finney's sermons on
"The Signs of a Seared Conscience." The circumstance calling out the
passage, and the effects of the appeal as related to me by his son, Frederick
Norton, well illustrate the terms upon which Finney dwelt with his neighbors
and associates, and the mutual confidence they reposed in each other. Finney
had engaged a number of laborers to come to his house on Saturday to make his
garden and do some other work of a similar nature; but when he went for
various tools, they were not to be found. After searching the premises
diligently without success, he sent the men home, telling them to come again
on Monday.

The passage already quoted, like most of the
reports of Finney's sermons, does but scant justice to the original. As
delivered, it was accompanied by various lively personal references in
language somewhat as follows: "Just consider the condition in which I
found myself yesterday. I engaged a number of men to make the garden and put
in my crops; but when I went to look for my farming tools, I could not find
them. Brother Mahan borrowed my plough some time ago, and has forgotten to
bring it back. Brother Morgan has borrowed my barrow, and I presume has it
still. Brother Beecher has my spade and my hoe, and so my tools were all
scattered. Where many of them are, no man knows. I appeal to you, how can
society exist when such a simple duty as that of returning borrowed tools
ceases to rest as a burden upon the conscience? It is in such delinquencies as
these that the real state of our hearts is brought to the light of day."

The effect of this appeal was everywhere
visible on the following day. Very early in the morning, Oberlin began to move
from centre to circumference. Norton was called up by his father before light
to go out and pacify the watch-dog, which seemed to be in trouble. The
occasion of the commotion was that a Scotchman, living across the street, had
borrowed a saw-horse, and was endeavoring to get it home unobserved; but as he
climbed over the fence he found himself within the dog's domain, and the
mastiff had seized him and was holding him down in triumph, while the sawhorse
was lying near by as a mute witness to the guilty conscience. All through the
day, farming implements and tools came in from every quarter. Not satisfied
with rearing altars to the deities they knew, these delinquent borrowers
reared altars to unknown gods. Tools came in that Finney had never owned and
never heard of. Where they belonged was more than any man was ever able to
tell. But doubtless they relieved the consciences of the guilty. Though Finney
was by no means insensible to this humorous outcome, it would be a mistake to
suppose that he had made the appeal in any levity of spirit. Nor was there in
it any censoriousness, such as to engender ill-feeling on the part of those
who had been thus publicly arraigned. But the whole circumstance illustrates,
in some degree, the tendency to exaggeration which frequently characterized
Finney's appeals, and which made it necessary to hear him more than once in
order to get a just idea of the real symmetry of his mind.

Finney's prayers were always a most
interesting and affecting part of the public services at Oberlin. Apparently,
he prayed in public as he did in his closet, forgetful that any were present
beside himself and his Creator. His petitions for the afflicted and needy of
the parish were peculiarly touching and tender. He seemed to have every
individual always before his mind. The students can never forget how, when the
autumn term drew to a close, and they were about to face the trials of
teaching in the winter schools throughout the region, his prayers for them
would increase in fervency as he besought the Lord to keep the "dear
children from misfortune and evil, and to gird them with strength for their
trying work." His petitions were entirely free from formality, and were
usually limited to objects of immediate interest, and only on occasions
comprehended the country and the world at large. Apparently, he relied much
upon the direct leadings of the Holy Spirit in prayer, and this childlike
spirit must be kept in mind if we would properly understand the significance
of some of the immediate answers that came. Probably his aversion to uttering
many of the ordinary general petitions arose from his doctrine respecting the
"prayer of faith." In his lecture upon that subject he replies, in
answer to the question, At what times are we to offer this prayer? "When
you have evidence from promises, or prophecies, or providences, or the leading
of the Spirit, that God will do the things you pray for. You have no evidence
that it is God's will to convert the whole world at once."(98)

Some of his remarkable prayers for rain can
scarcely be accounted for except upon the supposition that he was led by the
Spirit; as, for example, in the case next to be related. We draw this
inference partly from the fact that, a year or two subsequent to this time,
there was a formal day of fasting and prayer appointed at Oberlin for the
express purpose of securing rain; but Finney's name does not appear in
connection with the appointment, and the prayer was by no means as productive
of results as was that which we are about to relate.

The summer of 1853 was unusually hot and dry,
so that the pastures were scorched, and there seemed likely to be a total
failure of the crops. Under these circumstances, the great congregation
gathered one Sabbath in the church at Oberlin as usual, when, though the sky
was clear, the burden of Finney's prayer was for rain. In his prayer he
deepened the cry of distress which went up from every heart by mentioning in
detail the consequences of prolonged drought. It was in about these words: -

"We do not presume, O Lord, to
dictate to thee what is best for us; yet thou dost invite us to come to thee
as children to a father, and tell thee all our wants. We want rain. Our
pastures are dry. The earth is gaping open for rain. The cattle are wandering
about and lowing in search of water. Even the little squirrels in the woods
are suffering from thirst. Unless thou givest us rain, our cattle must die,
and our harvests will come to nought. O Lord, send us rain, and send it now!
Although to us there is no sign of it, it is an easy thing for thee to do. Send
it now, Lord, for Christ's sake! Amen."(99)

Says a correspondent,(100)
in describing the remainder of the scene, "I remember, as distinctly as
yesterday, the prolongation, the fervency, the urgency, the filial pleadings,
of those petitions. I remember that at length he closed, took his text, and
preached perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, when we began to hear the patter upon
the roof. I remember that he preached a few minutes longer; that the rattle
and the roar increased; that suddenly he stopped and said, 'I think we had
better thank God for the rain;' that he gave out the hymn, -

'When all thy mercies, O my God!
My rising soul surveys;'

that the whole congregation arose and sang it;
that the rain continued, so that, when at last we were dismissed at the noon
hour, multitudes stood around, and waited till the full skies could pour out
their abounding floods."

At another time he prayed for rain in the
following words: "O Lord, the long-looked-for clouds are at last over our
heads, and we pray that they may now burst, and deluge the parched earth. Do
not let them pass by, and discharge their waters upon the lake, as they have
done so often of late, for thou knowest, O Lord, that there is already water
enough in the lake." The effect of this prayer is not related. We have
already referred to some of the remarkable seasons of prayer which were held
with his students upon the eve of their graduation. But occasionally his
irrepressible humor came to the surface in the prayers with which he
habitually closed the hour of class-room work. At one time, when for some
reason the class met for a few days in his study, one or two of them yielded
to the soporific influence of the well-cushioned seats and fell asleep. In his
closing prayer, Finney did not forget these unfortunate members, but prayed
that they might hereafter be kept awake. When the class came into the room the
next day, they found the easy-chairs displaced by hard-seated chairs from the
kitchen. Finney good-humoredly remarked to them, "You see, young
gentlemen, I have found a way to answer my own prayer."

At another time, when he had been dwelling at
great length upon technical questions of theology, and when the danger of the
students' getting merely the form of sound words without their power was
great, Finney closed the hour with the prayer that the Lord would mellow their
hearts, and give life and power to the truth, for, if He did not, their whole
system of theology "would be so dry that it would be fit only to choke a
moral agent.'"

On another day, when the class in theology had
been quite voluble in expressing their own views, Finney in closing prayed,
"O Lord, do not let these young men think that, because they have let
down a little line into the infinite sea of thy greatness, they have sounded
all its depths. Save them from conceit, O Lord! "

When the National Congregational Council
was organized at Oberlin, advantage was taken of its presence to dedicate the
building for the theological seminary (named from the event Council Hall),
though it was then but partially completed. Finney was asked to make the
dedicatory prayer. Before beginning his prayer he said: "I have felt
somewhat embarrassed with regard to performing this part of the service,
because the house is not entirely finished. I have several times refused to
take part in dedicating a house of worship that was not paid for; but this is
neither :finished nor paid for, and hence I have had some hesitation about
offering it to God in this state. But I remember that I have often offered
myself to God, and I am far from being finished yet, and why should I not
offer this house just as it is? I will do so, relying upon the determination
of those having it in charge to finish it as soon as possible."(101)

In general, Finney respected the rule for
which he voted in the New Lebanon Convention, that it was improper to pray by
name for persons in public without their permission. But I remember hearing
him pray for Professor M. in a somewhat extraordinary manner, though one which
unwittingly revealed his high appreciation of his associate's reputation for
profundity. Finney was conducting the preliminary exercises on a Sabbath
morning in which Professor M. was to preach, and he prayed that "Brother
M. might be baptized with the Spirit, and might have great simplicity of
speech and clearness of utterance given him, so that the great truths of the
gospel should be made plain and brought within our reach, so that we should
not all have to get up on tiptoe to understand what he was saying."

As a pastor, Finney attended faithfully to the
spiritual functions of his office. In addition to preaching, he led the weekly
prayer-meeting, and held an inquiry meeting at some time during each week, and
always stood ready to respond to every genuine call from those who were in
spiritual trouble. In a family of my acquaintance a lad of twelve had died of
consumption some years before. The house was a mile away through the woods,
but the mother often told me how Mr. Finney, as he went out with his gun for
recreation, would regularly come around to the bedside of her dying boy to
bring him the consolations of the gospel, and to pray for sustaining grace.
His presence in the sick-room was as gentle as that of a woman.

He was very fond of little children, and
infants were rarely restless when he took them in his arms, as he ordinarily
did, to administer the rite of baptism. Children of a larger growth were
usually somewhat afraid of him; but needlessly so, as they found on actually
coming in contact with him. At one time he met a neighbor's little girl riding
horseback, and beckoned her to come to him. With much trembling she rode up to
see what he had to say. He asked her if she was not Dr. S.'s daughter. She
replied, "Yes." He remarked: "I thought so. That's a hard horse
you are riding. You go right home and tell your father that he must give you
an easier horse to ride than that." It is related, also, that several
times in succession, as he met a brother of this girl, he asked the boy what
his name was. The boy at length mischievously gave him the wrong name.
Whereupon Finney looked at him good-humoredly and said, "Why, John S.,
what a liar you are!" Of course there was no longer any barrier of
reserve separating him from these children.

From his reputed severity of manner in
preaching, and the high standard which he set for Christian character, it
might be supposed that he would have belonged to the high Puritan party in
respect to church discipline. But such was not the case. On the contrary,
considerable complaint was made' from time to time that he was inclined to
throw obstacles in the way of church discipline. The element of truth in this
was that he regarded it as his duty to check hasty movements in church
discipline, and to insist on giving every one who was charged with unchristian
character ample time to vindicate himself if he could do it. As a lawyer, he
very naturally emphasized the legal maxim, that the person charged with fault
should have full benefit of the doubt. In fact, vigorous as were his habitual
denunciations of sin, his charity was broad and considerate, and he was slow
to accuse any one of an excommunicable offense. His great reliance for
securing the purity of the church was upon positive influences put forth by
the church to secure repentance and sanctification.

The experience of Rev. Dr. James Brand,
Finney's successor in the pastorate of the First Church at Oberlin, pleasantly
reveals the attractive side of Finney's character. After relating the
trepidation with which he first preached in the presence of Finney in his own
church, Dr. Brand goes on to say that, when introduced the next morning at his
house, all his preconceived notions of him were utterly revolutionized.
"A more, genial, tender, sympathetic, childlike character," he says,
"I had never met. From that moment he was a father and a friend, not a
judge. Doubtless he had his inward judgments, but during the two remaining
years of his life, though living still among a people who idolized him, and to
whom his word was law, he never, to my knowledge, offered a suggestion, or
made a criticism upon the management of the church (though doubtless many
might justly have been made), except when earnestly solicited to do so. If all
ex-pastors were like Mr. Finney, no new minister would need to have any of the
traditional fear from the presence of his predecessor in his parish. It became
the frequent delight of my life to call and question him as to what ought to
be done and said for the best interests of the people. He always sent me away
a wiser man, and with deeper longing to win men to Christ. It was
unquestionably due largely to his wisdom and Christian sympathy that the
people to whom he had ministered for forty years could consent to bear with a
new man, and a comparative novice at that, in his place. . . . Like the
apostle John, President Finney made love the principal theme of his old age.
He could hardly refer to the love of God without weeping."

An important element in Finney's influence was
the strength and warmth of his personal friendships, and the tenderness of his
family life. It is interesting, in looking over the file of his letters to his
warm friend, Deacon Lamson, of the Park Street Church, Boston, to find them
concluding with such expressions as these: "Love to Mary, and a thousand
kisses to the children;" "Love to all your dear ones;"
"With oceans of love to our dear Mary and the children, and as much for
yourself as you can desire;" "I hope Mary is not ill. I thought if
she had been seriously ill you would have informed us, but do relieve our
suspense and anxiety upon this point."

In his business habits, Finney was systematic
and punctilious: he quickly noticed any irregularity in the college bell; his
door-yard was a model of neatness; every fruit tree in his garden was on his
mind, and when absent from home he would make particular inquiries of his
children about each tree. His reading was largely in philosophical lines, and
he was among the first to detect and expose the fallacies of Hamilton and
Mansel concerning the philosophy of the unconditioned. Nor was his interest
limited to philosophical and theological subjects. Dr. Dascomb often referred
to the keen criticisms made by Finney upon the chemical theories then in
vogue, showing how clearly he discerned the weak points in inductive logic.
After his death it was found that he had been a constant reader of the
"New York Nation," and that he had preserved a complete file of the
numbers for presentation to the college library.

Mr. Finney was married three times. His first
wife, Lydia Andrews, to whom he was married, under the circumstances already
mentioned, in 1824, died in December, 1847. By her he had several children,
four of whom survived their father, - Charles G., who is a lawyer in
California; Frederick Norton, a prominent actor in promoting the railroad
interests in Wisconsin; Helen, the wife of Gen. J. Dolson Cox, of Cincinnati,
Ohio; and Julia, wife of Hon. James Monroe, of Oberlin, Ohio.

The tribute which Mr. Finney bore, soon after
her death, to his first wife's memory, is touching in the extreme. In a
communication to the "Oberlin Evangelist," written the 25th of
December, 1847, he recounts the circumstances of her sickness and death, and
refers to the great assistance she had rendered him in his work. From this it
would appear that she was constitutionally diffident, and inclined to take a
despondent view of her Christian character, so that, in the earlier revivals
in which she accompanied him, the sermons in which he dwelt upon the danger of
self-deception were appropriated by her to an undesirable degree; and thus she
was in a constant state of inordinate self-abasement, and never came to be
steadily at rest about her hope in Christ until they came to Oberlin, soon
after which she "received such light and grace that she ever after held
fast her confidence without wavering. . . . My dear wife," he writes,

"used to look up to me as her spiritual
guide and teacher under God, but in justice to her I would say that she taught
me many most valuable lessons. She showed me in many things how to live,
and now she has shown me how to die. Oh, I ask myself, Can I die like
that? Certainly not without the abounding and sovereign grace of God."

He subsequently married Mrs. Elizabeth Ford
Atkinson, of Rochester, N. Y., who was of great assistance to him in
conducting meetings for women in his later revival labors in England and in
Boston. She died in 1863. His third wife was Rebecca Allen Rayl, who had been
for some time previously assistant principal of the ladies' department at
Oberlin, and who still survives him.

The children look back upon their home life
with great tenderness and satisfaction. While specially solicitous to keep
them from evil associations, their father was by no means severe in the
restrictions to which he subjected them. His occasional strong utterances
against amusements were really aimed against their abuse, and against engaging
in them when they interfered with spiritual development. But, according to his
theory, everything was sinful when out of its place, and when permitted to
usurp the position of the supreme end of being. His grandchildren loved to be
in his family while attending school, and are fond of relating the pranks
which they played upon their grandfather, and the good-natured way he accepted
them. One of the marked features of his later life, observed by all his
acquaintances and all his guests, was his special fondness for a beautiful
little granddaughter who was for some time in his family.

As illustrating the confidence and freedom of
communication between himself and his children, the following letter, found
among his most valued documents, is not without interest. It was written to
him in 1843, when he was in Boston, by a little daughter, then six years old,
and relates to a painful discovery that a man who had been esteemed and
trusted by his general acquaintances, and especially by her father, was
dishonest and a totally unworthy character. The grief and dismay of the little
child is thus expressed: -

MY DEAR FATHER, - I will write you a few
lines, dear father. Come, let us converse about thieves. Mr. - is a thief!
Will you pray for me, dear father? We suppose him one of the most wicked men
in - Oh! I would not be a wicked thief like him. We suppose that he has stolen
hundreds of dollars. Oh, oh! I will just tell you all my heart. I feel very
sad, dear father. What shall I say? What shall I do? Your own dear friend is a
villain! I feel as if I should cry every minute! Oh, oh! I don't know what -
Oh, father, I hope you will not be such a thief! Do pray for me in time, that
I may not be such a villain as he is.

Your affectionate daughter,

JULIA.

CHAPTER IX.

CONCLUSION.

IN summing up the influence of Finney's life,
it is of course difficult, and indeed impossible, to separate it from that of
the general agencies with which he co-operated. Necessarily, his work was
largely determined by the circumstances of the time in which he lived. It is
often said that, if he had been born fifty years later, he would not have been
so marked a man as he was. Whether this is true or not, it is not our province
to determine. At any rate, it was no fault of his that he was born in the last
of the eighteenth century, rather than in the middle of the nineteenth. His
crowning virtue was, that he adjusted himself to surrounding conditions, and
concentrated all his marvelous gifts upon the fields of work that from time to
time were opened before him. His rare argumentative and oratorical powers were
first called forth by the spiritual destitution of frontier communities, and
among them he would have continued to labor but for a divine call to broader
fields.

Like the great apostle to the Gentiles, Finney
was truly "as one born out of due time," and until the day of his
death he was urged forward in his varied lines of activity by an overwhelming
sense of his debt of gratitude to Christ. The whole effort of his subsequent
life was to present to men, as best he could, the majesty and loveliness of
God's character, and the absoluteness of the divine claim upon the affections
and service of mankind. The severity which at times seemed to mark his
preaching was as different as could be from rancor and ill-will. When he
showed the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the wrath of God necessarily
incurred by it, the auditor was left to judge for himself whether he was by
his conduct personally incurring this wrath. In the course of his revival
labors in any place, Finney was sure at some time to preach a sermon upon the
necessity of confessing and forsaking sin. This almost always resulted in the
unearthing of many buried crimes, the restitution of much ill-gotten gain, and
the reuniting, through confession, of many broken friendships. But he ever had
the true feeling, bred in his legal practice, of repugnance to bringing to
light any matters which were not strictly of public concern.

The point with reference to which he
felt that he had, above all others, a special mission in his later years was
that of binding together in closer union the doctrine of faith and works. This
appeared in his preaching long before he distinctly enunciated it in his
writings on sanctification. Formally stated, his teaching was, that, while the
love of God is the ground of justification, and the atonement of Christ one of
the essential conditions of it, we must insist also that present, full, and
entire consecration of heart and life to God is an equally unalterable
condition of pardon. According to his form of statement, the penitent soul
remains justified no longer than this full-hearted consecration continues.
"If he falls from his first love into the spirit of self-pleasing, he
falls again into bondage to sin and to the law, is condemned, and must repent
and do his 'first work,' must return to Christ, and renew his faith and love
as a condition of his salvation."(102)

The death of Dr. Channing occurred in Boston
in 1842, while Finney was engaged in his second revival effort in that city.
It was reported to Finney that Dr. Channing desired to see him, but
circumstances beyond control prevented the interview. Meanwhile, however,
Channing had obtained from one of Finney's converts a copy of "Views of
Sanctification" which Finney had just published, and expressed both great
interest in it, and his inability to see anything in the doctrines there
presented to which orthodox Christians could reasonably object. And, indeed,
on going over the discussions of those early days, it is not difficult to
believe that, had the relations between justification and sanctification been
as clearly presented by the early New England theologians as they were
afterwards by Finney, much of the occasion of separation between the
Calvinists and the Arminians, as they were called, or, in the later
development, the Orthodox and the Unitarians, would have been obviated.
Against Finney's statement of the doctrine of justification, Unitarians could
certainly have had no ground of charging that it depreciated the importance of
good works.

Finney's style of preaching has already been
spoken of in some detail, but it will be useful to add here the description
and estimate of it which was given in 1850 by Dr. John Campbell, editor of the
"British Banner." Dr. Campbell was at that time pastor of the
Tabernacle in Finsbury, London, and also of Tottenham Court Road Chapel, both
of which had been built for Whitefield, and occupied by him for years. By
invitation of Campbell, Finney preached in the Tabernacle for a period of nine
months. At the end of the first three months, Dr. Campbell gives the following
account of the character and result of these labors: -

"As many of our readers are anxious to
know the progress of Mr. Finney in the metropolis, we shall give a few words
of report. He continues, as heretofore, to preach five times a week, Tuesday,
Wednesday, and Friday, and latterly attending, also, and delivering an
address, at the prayer meeting on the Monday evening, and then on Thursday
evening meeting all inquirers. This is an amount of labor which, at this
season of the year, it may be supposed that most men would sensibly feel, if
not sink under; but with Mr. Finney it is otherwise. We have never heard him
complain of fatigue, and scarcely ever say the weather is hot! He seems,
indeed, in his very element. This remarkable man would appear destined by
Providence for this species of labor. He speaks with an ease altogether
peculiar; to a large extent, his style is colloquial, interspersed,
nevertheless, with lofty flights and impetuous bursts of a more oratorical
character, when the delivery becomes intense, the voice acquires an ocean
swell, accompanied by very energetic action. But these bursts are never long
continued; he quickly returns to an easy level, and for many minutes together
proceeds in a state of earnest repose, during which the address is colloquial,
but still with a measure of inflection, always forcible and always solemn. It
is a peculiar sort of style, altogether unlike that of any other preacher we
ever heard; so much so, that simple people, whose taste has been formed upon
the established model, have difficulty in considering it preaching at all.
They scarcely know what to call it. It is speaking, they say, and they are not
greatly out. It is speaking such as may be heard in Parliament, and to large
extent in courts of law. It would correspond very well with first-class
Westminster oratory, and would have fitted its possessor for eminence at the
bar, to which he was originally destined. His voice is clear and remarkably
strong; nevertheless admitting, although for that purpose rarely used, of the
deepest pathos. The hearer is principally affected by a sense of power; no
pity is ever felt for the speaker. The idea that he must be fatigued, or that
he will injure himself, never enters the mind, and it is somewhat strange
that, while he never tires himself, it is the same with his hearers, - they
never tire. Rarely, on Sabbath or week days, does he preach less than an hour
and a half; and we remember no case of complaint, or any manifestation of
weariness, even in London, of all places the least inclined to favor prolonged
exercises of a religious character. To all appearance, they would sit till
sunrise. Yet never a man had less of the meretricious or claptrap, than Mr.
Finney: the austerity of his manner, the severity of his address; the terrible
force with which he comes down upon the ungodly, shutting up men in the
prison-house of an awful accountability; and practical as his address to
professors is - yet it would seem somehow that the more he lashes the more he
is loved. Never man had less of the soft and sentimental, the luscious in
doctrine or spurious in experience, which has so frequently in London crowded
houses with thoughtless, frivolous multitudes. This may be accounted for
partly by his manner, perhaps very largely so, and also by his matter; for
while in one respect he is mechanical, in others he is original, natural, and
very varied. His mode of conducting services is peculiar to himself. In a
pastoral light, his devotional exercises are exceedingly defective. Although
he has now preached three months in this great house, the hearer would
scarcely ever have discovered that there was either church or pastor, or
officer or schools, sickness or death, or any species of local labor requiring
either prayer or sympathy: that there was a nation with its manifold wants, a
senate, or a sovereign. Of a Queen or Parliament he has never been heard to
make mention. So it is as to the world, the cause of missions, and so forth.
The prayer grows out of the coming sermon; he speaks as if all flesh were
before him: sin and death, redemption, and its application to the wants of the
perishing portion of the multitude, - these things alone concern Mr. Finney;
and from beginning to end, the petition is made to bear upon the conversion of
his auditory. This is the case as a rule, to which there is scarcely an
exception. His prayers, too, are interspersed with a dash of peculiarity,
sometimes of eccentricity; but the effect is to fix attention on the part of
the fallen multitude, although it rather grates occasionally upon the
spiritual portion of his auditory. Then, as to his sermons, there is the same
uniformity: he announces his text in the bluntest, simplest way possible, and
without a word of prelude or preparation, intimates what he means to do, by
dividing his text; then he dashes on from head to head till he has done, or
rather till his time is up, for his thought never seems run out. Having
finished that, he never fails to conclude with what he calls a few remarks,
and these remarks are always peculiarly striking, pungent, and carefully drawn
out of the subject. Then, in a moment, he stops short, prays, pronounces the
benediction, and so the matter ends.

"The least informed portion of the
people, and those that hear him only once or twice, may be strongly tempted,
on certain occasions, to doubt whether he preaches the gospel, and whether he
is altogether sound in the faith; but those that hear him, as we have heard
him, for three months, will be at perfect ease upon that point, being fully
satisfied of his perfect soundness in all respects, although he does not
preach all points in every sermon, and does not always base his addresses on
gospel considerations to the extent that is customary in England. There is one
striking peculiarity which often exposes him to the charge of heresy, but
which, we think, constitutes his remarkable, striking excellence: in speaking
to the multitude, he always addresses them, not as unfortunate, but as
criminal, ever pressing upon them the doctrine that nothing prevents them from
repenting and believing but their pride and love of sin; and never calls on
men to do other than repent and believe, - nothing to obtain faith and
repentance. Under his preaching, no man could ever have been led to conclude
that there was no sin in unbelief, none in impenitence. The result is, a
remarkable cogency in his appeals. The atonement, the love of the Father, the
abundance of mercy, - these points are exhibited in all their fullness, and
men are summoned to an immediate surrender. But it could never be gathered by
the sinner, from his addresses, that any power is necessary either to dispose
or to enable him to receive the truth. Mr. Finney addresses him as if no such
help or power was either needed or provided; and in this we must contend that
he pursues the true apostolic path,. from which much preaching of modern times
has grievously deviated. But when Mr. Finney comes to address Christians, and
to speak of the operations of the Spirit, he pours himself forth in strains to
which an apostle would have listened with approbation."(103)

At the farewell meeting six months later,
Campbell made an address in which he more minutely analyzes Finney's
characteristics: -

"Now, then," he said, "that Mr.
Finney's course has reached its close, it may be permitted us to utter a
thought or two relative to a man for whom we have conceived a very high
regard, and in whose labors and history we feel the deepest interest. We
cannot say that we are much gratified at the thought of Mr. Finney's returning
to college duties, and the general ministry of a rural charge. We do not
consider that such is the place for the man; and we must be allowed to think
that, fifteen years ago, a mistake was committed when he became located in the
midst of academic bowers. In our view, there are few living men to whom such
an element is less suited. He is made for the millions - his place is the
pulpit, rather than the professor's chair. He is a heaven-born sovereign of
the people. The people he loves, and the mass of the people all but idolize
him. He seems specially created for oral labor. The structure of his mind is
altogether peculiar. The logical faculty is developed in an unusual degree,
and hence there is a tendency to argument in excess. He reasons on and to the
extreme of redundancy, often laboring to explain that which requires no
further explanation, and needs no further proof. He is, moreover, strongly
addicted to the metaphysical and analytical, and hence whatever he touches
becomes more or less arrayed in a dialectical costume. These peculiarities
might, at first sight, seem somewhat to unfit him for pulpit labor among the
million; but it is otherwise: he succeeds either through or in spite of them.
Whether he be understood or not, he is listened to, and complaints are not
generally heard on the score of his being unintelligible. These rare gifts are
of signal service in enabling Mr. Finney to fathom the deepest recesses of the
human heart, and to throw light on the darkest portions of human character.
For moral anatomy, he has no equal among the multitude of great and successful
ministers whom it has been our lot to hear. An assembly often quivers under
him as does the living subject under the knife of the operator, whom
experience has rendered skillful and habit made callous. Multitudes have stood
amazed at themselves as presented in the mirror he exhibits to their
astonished view. This peculiar power alone would have rendered Mr. Finney
remarkable among public instructors; but this is only one feature of his
complex and multifarious character as preacher. His declamatory are fully
equal to his logical powers. In this walk we think he has no superior. He
thunders and lightens when his subject requires it, in a manner to shake the
heart of an assembly, rousing the most apathetic, and awing the most careless.

"But even this is not all; he possesses
another quality seldom found in combination with the foregoing: he is
occasionally, though seldom, strongly pathetic; the voice falters, and the
eyes become suffused with tears. Thus, then, Mr. Finney largely combines to
himself the qualities necessary to constitute the three great classes of
public speaking, and is capable, with proper application, of the highest
success in them all; but we believe it is only justice to his great character
to say that he never thought five minutes on the subject. Whatever he is, he
is from nature and the gifts of God; art has done nothing for him. The result
of the whole is an extraordinary range of mental and moral contact with the
assembly. There is something for men of every class; all, in turns, are
gratified, and all are occasionally disappointed, according as, throughout the
discourse, the one quality or the other may predominate. Sometimes, during an
entire sermon, he is dry and logical in the extreme, addressing himself to
pure intellect, making no provision whatever for either heart or fancy. At
other times both are regaled in a very high degree, as an interdict is then
placed on the logical faculty; and there have been a few discourses, also,
touching and pathetic throughout. In these respects he is the most varied of
preachers, and in all respects the most unequal. . . .

"It is certainly a pity that a man so
singularly endowed for evangelistic labor should be chained down by the dull
routine of college duties. If we mistake not, there are a thousand men to be
found in the United States that would perform Mr. Finney's professorial duties
as well, perhaps in many respects better, than he; but we doubt if, amongst
the three and twenty million American citizens, and the forty thousand
ministers, more or less, that labor among them, there are many, if one, that
possess all the qualifications above enumerated. Thus much for the attributes
of Mr. Finney as a public instructor; and the opinion is given after hearing
him incessantly for about nine months.

"It was my wish for many years that
Mr. Finney should visit the shores of England. His works had come before him;
and when his 'Lectures on Revivals' appeared, I read them with avidity, and,
as a portion of you will remember, for three months, from week to week, at
special meetings, I read and expounded them in this edifice. Their value was
not in my estimation at all lessened by their peculiarities, and by what might
be called, not without truth, their occasional extravagance both of thought
and of language. These I considered, and still consider, but as the dust in
the balance, - as spots in the. sun. The volume, as a whole, I have ever
viewed as of extraordinary importance. The more I pondered, the more I
perceived its inherent excellence. The book excited a very strong desire in me
to see the man, and still more to hear him. The man I have seen, the man I
have heard; and in both, the expectations excited by the book have been more
than realized. But I have not only seen and heard him: after the manner of the
ancients, we have eaten salt together. You all know the adage, 'If you will
know a man, you must live with him.' Mr. Finney and I have lived together for
the space of some nine months, a period which, I suppose, will be admitted
sufficient for the purpose in question. I think I may therefore say I have a
tolerable knowledge of him, and that it is but simple justice to say that to
increase knowledge has been only to increase regard. Throughout that long
period we have seen in him much to love and much to admire. I shall never
cease to prize his friendship, and to think of him with unalloyed satisfaction
and high pleasure. His virtues partake not a little of the old Roman, while
his manners are strongly republican. In everything good, the reality exceeds
the appearance, and, as the observation becomes closer, the esteem
ascends."(104)

During this period of Finney's labor in
London, Henry Ward Beecher was in England on a visit, and was sending letters
regularly to the "New York Independent," one of which is devoted
entirely to Finney's work. Having referred to the alarm which some American
papers were endeavoring to raise in England concerning Finney, one of them
declaring "that the churches in America in which Mr. F. had labored have since
wept tears of blood in consequence," - Beecher comments as follows
upon what he saw and heard:

"On two occasions we were present, when,
at the close of the Sabbath evening's service, more than a thousand persons
presented themselves in an adjoining hall as inquirers. Nor have we ever
witnessed in any place more solemnity, order, and unexceptionable propriety in
the conduct of meetings, than has prevailed under Mr. Finney at the
Tabernacle. And now, if we were an English clergyman, and if we were inclined
to doubt the reality of revivals, and, seeing the results of Mr. Finney's
labors, should hear it testified from the land of revivals that they were
spurious, - that, good as they might now seem, they would end in mischief, -
we should conclude, not against Mr. Finney, but against revivals. We should
say, if these are spurious, all revivals are spurious. This is the tendency of
the efforts put forth by religious newspapers in America - to undermine Mr.
Finney in England. For the sake of pushing at a theological antagonist, they
are deepening the impression, already too deep, that revivals of religion are
disorders, - the channels of mischief and not of blessings. . . .

"Our English brethren ought to
understand that the opinions expressed by several religious newspapers on this
side are not the opinions of the American church; that there is a large
proportion of American Christians differing from Mr. Finney in his views of
Christian perfection, and not ignorant of some evils in his early revival
labors, who, notwithstanding, regard his life to have been an era in the
revival history of America, and his labors, upon the whole, to have been a
precious blessing to the cause of God in America. Another generation will sift
the chaff from the wheat, and then, we firmly believe, few men will be found
to have been better husbandmen than Charles G. Finney. May God long spare his
life and increase his usefulness!"(105)

Apropos
to these references to the early revivals in central New York is the testimony
of the late Rev. James B. Shaw, of Rochester, for forty-seven years pastor of
the Brick Church of that city, who listened to Finney's preaching in Auburn in
1827, and in subsequent years was repeatedly assisted by Finney. According to
Dr. Shaw, the earlier as well as the later preaching of Finney was
characterized by great propriety of manner; and when anything occurred which
seemed otherwise, it was amply justified by the attendant circumstances as
interpreted under the inspiration of the moment.

In the "History of the Rochester
Presbytery," published in 1889, the following commendatory reference is
made to Finney's work in the same region: -

"The powerful revivals wrought of God
through the labors of Rev. Charles G. Finney, in the years 1830, 1842, and
1856, in the city of Rochester, still retain their impress upon the churches
in this section, and are often referred to, by those who were then converted,
as characterized by very strong conviction of sin, followed by very positive
evidence of change of heart." It is suggestive, also, that they can add,
"the absence of strife [throughout the Presbytery] is worthy of special
mention. . . . The peace of the churches has been attested by the almost
entire absence of judicial business."

To these contemporary estimates of the
character and influence of Finney's preaching, we may add the tribute of Dr.
Joseph P. Thompson in an historical discourse given upon the last Sabbath of
his own occupancy of the Broadway Tabernacle, New York, in April, 1857. After
having referred to Finney's labors in that church, he adds: -

"Mr. Finney's method of preaching was
peculiar. Gifted with fine powers of analysis, which were early disciplined in
the study of the law, he has, also, the constructive faculty in a high degree;
so that he can at once dissect an error or sophism, analyze a complex feeling,
motive, or action, and build a logical argument with cumulative force. With
these he combines a vivid imagination, and the power of graphic description.
Nor, with the seeming sharpness and severity of his logic and the terrors
which his fancy portrays, is he wanting in tenderness of feeling. His
experimental knowledge of divine truth is deep and thorough, and his knowledge
of the workings of the human mind under that truth is extended and
philosophical. Hence his preaching searches the conscience, convinces the
judgment, and stirs the will either to assent or to rebellion. His elocution,
though unstudied and so sometimes inelegant, is yet strangely effective; and
in the proper mood of an assembly, a pause, a gesture, an emphasis, an
inflection, an exclamation, will produce the highest oratorical effects. The
conviction of sincerity attends his words; the force of an earnest mind goes
with his logic.

"His sermons in the Tabernacle were
unwritten, and were usually preached from a brief lying before him. But though
extempore in their dress, they were not unstudied as to their matter or their
form. In yonder study, the first pastor of the Tabernacle had a huge slate,
upon which he would sketch an outline of a sermon, as an architect sketches
his plan, the painter his groups. This done, he would betake himself to
prayer, or pace the room in earnest thought. By and by perhaps the whole plan
would be effaced, and another substituted for it; or the first would be recast
in the vigorous mould of a mind kindled by prayer, till it came forth glowing
with the fire of the Holy Ghost. Then he was ready for the pulpit, and
therefore God was with him in the pulpit."(106)

The extent to which opposition to Finney at
length subsided, and the degree to which the real merits of his work were
finally appreciated, appeared preeminently at the great meeting in Oberlin in
November, 1871, to organize the National Triennial Congregational Council.
This meeting was composed of the chief representative men of the denomination
from all parts of the country, and was presided over by Rev. Dr. Budington, of
Brooklyn, New York. Toward the close of their deliberations Finney was able,
though in his eightieth year, to address the council for an hour upon the
"Endowment of the Holy Ghost." The scene has already been alluded
to, and was one long to be remembered by those who witnessed it. The day after
this address, when the council laid the corner-stone of the building which was
to be the future home of the theological seminary, Dr. Budington closed the
meeting with some brief remarks. After referring to the fact that, on the day
before, they had all listened to President Finney with bated breath and
swelling hearts, he added the following significant words: -

"I rejoice to stand this day upon
the grave of buried prejudice. It is true that Oberlin has been a battle-cry
in our ranks for a generation. It is so no longer, but a name of peace, of
inspiration, and hope. What does the history of Oberlin prove but just this, -
to hold sacred the individual conscience, and inviolable the liberty of the
individual church? If days of darkness come, of suspicion and alienation, as
sure as God's truth is great and the love of Christ pervasive, the light will
return and come again with a brighter and sweeter effulgence."(107)

It is impossible to determine the number of
conversions directly traceable to Finney's labors. But without doubt it runs
far up into the tens of thousands; and as the converts were largely men and
women in mature life, the influences directly proceeding from them at once
became predominant in a large number of important religious centres.

As already shown, the widespread and growing
usefulness of Oberlin is pre-eminently due to Finney's direct influence upon
the community, and upon the successive generations of students who gathered
there through the forty years of his connection with the institution. During
this period, there were 294 graduates from the Theological Department, 626
young men and 657 young women from the Classical and Literary Departments; in
all, 1,577. But in addition to this, throughout this entire period there was
upon the ground a great body of transient students of unusual maturity of mind
who were as thoroughly influenced by him as were those who took the full
course. In all, there were about twenty thousand who thus felt the magnetism
of Finney's presence at Oberlin.

Finney himself fully appreciated the
greatness of this opportunity. In a letter to Lewis Tappan, in 1865, he points
with satisfaction to the result of the movement initiated by Arthur Tappan in
giving an anti-slavery character to the school at Oberlin, and remarks that no
history of the anti-slavery movement can be satisfactory which does not
recognize the large share which Oberlin had in directing it and giving it
success, and that in the anti-slavery struggle it was Oberlin that turned the
scale in the Northwest, and thus at the critical moment saved it to the Union.(108)

The character of the Oberlin influence and the
methods by which it was obtained have been well delineated by Gen. J. Dolson
Cox: -

"The theological classes spent their
vacations in preaching or anti-slavery lecturing, and, whether preaching or
lecturing, the absorbing topic of the time was rarely absent from their
thoughts or speech. The undergraduate classes in college were men of more
maturity than the average of such students in other colleges. They were nearly
all poor, and many of them quite dependent upon their own exertion for
support, and this class of students had to wait for advanced education till
they could save the means to pay for it, or reach an age when they could make
teaching in the common schools furnish the wherewithal to keep the wolf from
the door in their alternate terms of study. The college terms were arranged to
suit such students, who were a large majority of the whole, and the long
vacation was placed in the winter for this reason. From the preparatory
classes upward, and in both the collegiate and ladies' departments, all of the
hundreds of earnest young people who thronged here were already active workers
in life. Each of them had his scores of younger minds upon whom for some
months in the year he was impressing his own zeal for knowledge not only, but
his own intense earnestness in the great public questions of reform. Every
debating society formed in a country hamlet was a platform from which the
politics of the country took shape, and where the men were formed and
instructed who became delegates to nominating conventions, and created the
public sentiment which soon began to find its echo in Congress. It mattered
little whether a representative was a Whig or a Democrat, it soon became
apparent that there were a considerable number of the districts in the
Northwest where no man's re-election was safe if he defied or disappointed the
rapidly growing anti-slavery sentiment of his constituents. It would be hard
to overestimate the part in this work which was taken by Oberlin students.
Remember that they were numbered by hundreds at an early day, and soon
exceeded a thousand. Each autumn they swarmed from the college halls, and were
not only to be found in the white schoolhouses dotted thick over northern
Ohio, but they scattered westward and eastward, and even southward, and a
beneficent swarm they were, always appreciated as successful and earnest
teachers, sometimes also hated and cursed as the supposed emissaries of a
radical propaganda, but, whether loved or hated, always pushing, debating,
inquiring, and agitating. This was not altogether because they meant to
agitate, or fully understood the sort of influence they were exerting. It was
better than that. They were young, intelligent men and women who were inspired
by new views of life and human progress, and with the naivete of
children they talked about what interested them. It bubbled from their lips as
naturally as their breath, and they could not refrain from it. They saw with
prophetic instinct the good time coming, and preached it most effectively by
the constant exhibition of their faith in its advent. The number of students
who took degrees in the ordinary college course was not large compared with
other schools. By far the greater number came for a year or two, to supplement
their common-school education and prepare for common-school teaching, from
which they went back to the farm and shop, and to all the common avocations of
life. The school-mistresses became the wives of the most intelligent and
active men in the little, growing communities of the West, and often did more
than their husbands to mould the opinions of their neighbors through the
subtle influence of earnest conscientiousness and intelligence, exerted
quietly but persistently from day to day and from year to year. . . .

"Their numbers [that is, of Oberlin
students] have been so great that, throughout the West and Northwest it would
be hard to find a community which did not acknowledge their influence. The
great tide of immigration from all the Eastern and Middle States runs by the
very doors of Oberlin, and her students, among the most active and
enterprising of those that committed themselves to the current, have explored
every byway and highway of all the new routes that advancing civilization
opened. Nay, they were often the foremost among the pioneers who preceded all
civilization. They were missionaries among the Ojibways while Iowa and
Minnesota were yet a wilderness. They were with John Brown at Lawrence and
Osawatomie when the outposts of freedom were first established.

"What can be clearer than that, in
this chapter of our country's history, the influence of Oberlin as a college
was a factor of great and permanent importance? It would be rash to assign to
any one influence a decisive and pre-eminent power, for all the circumstances
of the time, and the march of intellect and progress in the whole race,
combined to remove from the earth an institution that belonged to the dark
ages; but I unhesitatingly assert that there is hardly a township west of the
Alleghanies and north of the central line of Ohio in which the influence of
Oberlin men and Oberlin opinions cannot be specifically identified and traced.
It was the propaganda of a school of thought and action having distinct
characteristics, and as easily recognizable in its work as was that of
Garrison and the American Anti-slavery Society in their methods and
work."(109)

As we have seen, Finney early learned the
value of the press as an adjunct to the pulpit and to the teacher's desk, and
through this agency his influence has gained a permanent place in the world.
His sermons, though imperfectly reported, and his theological treatises are
still read by great numbers of the most earnest, intelligent, and thoughtful
people in the world, and will be well worth reading as long as religion and
theology are topics of human interest. The peculiar value of these writings
arises from the fact that they proceeded, not from a recluse, but from a born
philosopher whose brain was constantly taxed with the great practical problem
of converting the world.

While acting as pastor in New York, several of
Finney's sermons were issued in tract form and widely distributed. But his
thoughts came prominently before the public first in his "Revival
Lectures," which were reported by Dr. Leavitt for the "New York
Evangelist" in the fall and winter of 1834. As already noted, these at
once gave a large circulation to the paper, and thirteen editions were rapidly
sold in this country in book form, and there has been a continuous and large
demand for the volume up to the present time. In England the sales were still
more phenomenal. Two rival houses published the book, one of which reported
previous to 1850 that it had sold eighty thousand copies. It was translated
into Welsh, and was largely instrumental in promoting extensive revivals in
the churches using that tongue. The Morrisonians of Scotland were likewise
incited to successful revival efforts by the advent of the volume. Dr.
Campbell, the successor of Whitefield in London, was so attracted by the
lectures when they were first issued that, as already related, he read and
commented upon them to his people in course. They were also translated into
French, and, according to Finney's impression, into German. Of this, however,
there does not seem to be sufficient evidence, though the following incident
related by Professor Park is indicative of the character of the influence of
the book in that country. "About the year 1843," he writes, "I
made repeated visits to a friend in Berlin who resided in the palace of the
King of Prussia. My friend was a scholar of rare learning and of warm piety.
He was an instructor of the heir of the Prussian throne. I saw in his library
a copy of Finney's 'Lectures on Revivals of Religion.' My friend spoke of the
lectures in terms of high praise. The query came at once to my mind, Who can
tell that Charles G. Finney may not exert on the future king an influence
which may be felt throughout the Prussian kingdom? About forty-five years
after these visits, the heir to the throne became not only the King of
Prussia, but the Emperor [Fredrick] of Germany."

Through the columns of the "Oberlin
Evangelist," also, Finney's sermons, lectures, and letters for a period
of twenty years (1839 to 1859) reached many thousands of most influential
Christian people living in all parts of the country. The volumes entitled
"Sermons on Important Subjects," "Lectures to Professing
Christians," and "Gospel Themes," did not have so wide a circle
of readers as the "Revival Lectures," but they have all passed
through repeated editions, and are still in active demand. The first American
edition of his "Systematic Theology," and a subsequent edition in
England in 1851, were rapidly sold, and the somewhat condensed reprint edited
by President Fairchild has, at the present time, a steady sale.

From the beginning, the authorities of Oberlin
set themselves in opposition to secret societies, and none have ever been
permitted among the students. In his early life Finney himself was a member of
a Masonic lodge, but soon after his conversion he quietly withdrew, and was
granted an honorable dismission, dated May 7, 1824. For some years he did not
feel called upon to make any revelations prejudicial to the order, but when,
by the murder of Morgan in 1829, attention was directed to the character of
Masonic oaths, Finney no longer felt any scruples in letting the public know
that Morgan's revelations of Masonry were correct, at least so far as Finney
himself had gone in its degrees. But he was not prominently known as an
opponent of the system until 1869, when circumstances connected with the First
Church in Oberlin thrust the subject upon him; and with his accustomed energy
and decision he both preached and wrote upon it until it received full
treatment at his hands. Finney's sermons and articles resulting from this
discussion were soon afterwards collected, arranged, revised, and published in
a volume of about 300 pages, by the Western Tract and Book Society, and it has
since constituted one of the standard works of anti-Masonic literature.

Shortly after his death the "Memoirs of
Rev. Charles G. Finney, written by Himself," were published. These
contain personal reminiscences of his revival labors, and are a most important
source of information concerning his whole life and work. The book is written
in his usual perspicuous style, and is full of important reflections upon the
character of Christianity, and upon the means of promoting its interests. It
breathes a most kindly spirit, and reveals in striking light the secret
springs of Finney's untiring activity. Many thousand copies have been sold,
and it is highly valued by Christians of all denominations. The copyright was
bequeathed to the trustees of Oberlin College on condition that they would not
have the book sold by subscription.

Thus, fortunately, Finney has left in
literature a permanent record not only of his life, but also of his struggles
to adjust the truths of Christianity into such a harmonious system of thought
that no violence should be done to the dictates of reason. This, as he often
said, was (after that of the actual conversion of souls) the great aim of his
life. In attempting the work, he had the important advantage of viewing
everything from his own deep spiritual experience, and from wide practical
contact with the world. Added to this was the strong philosophical character
and analytical bent of his mind. The tribute which Prof. Charles Hodge, in his
review of the volumes on "Systematic Theology," paid to Finney's
intellect, is striking, and to a good degree just, though the evident purpose
of the praise was to establish a solid ground from which to demonstrate the
absurdity of the positions maintained by the New School Calvinists of his
time. By exalting the logical consistency of Finney, Hodge skillfully aimed to
commit the unwilling New School men to Finney's conclusions, and so to lead
them to disavow his premises and give up their whole system. This aim,
however, did not prevent the Princeton professor from speaking the truth when
he said, "It [the book] is to a degree very unusual, an original work. .
. . It is as hard to read as Euclid. Nothing can be omitted, nothing passed
over lightly. The author begins with certain postulates, or what he calls
first truths of reason, and these he traces out, with singular clearness and
strength, to their legitimate conclusions. We do not see that there is a break
or a defective link in the whole chain. . . . If you grant his principles, you
have already granted his conclusions."

In constructing his theological system, Finney
necessarily approached the Bible with a certain amount of presupposition
respecting the nature of the subject under consideration; and in his view, as
in that of Augustine, the Bible is a religious revelation to the common people
which does not to any great degree lose its perspicuity in a translation. Its
main line of thought is so plain that a wayfaring man, though a fool, need not
err therein. As a practical revelation pointing out the highway of holiness,
it is not a substitute for common sense, but a supplement to it. Like
Augustine of old, therefore, he never felt greatly embarrassed by his
ignorance of Greek and Hebrew.

Briefly stated, the most characteristic points
of Finney's system of theology are these: -

1. The human will is self-determining in its
action;

2. Obligation is limited by ability;

3. All virtuous choice terminates upon the
good of beings, and, in the ultimate analysis, on the good of being in
general;

4. The will is never divided in its action,
but, with whatever momentum it has at each instant, it is either wholly
virtuous or wholly sinful;

5. The total depravity of the human race is a
biblical doctrine, and since the fall in Eden all the acts of men previous to
regeneration are sinful;

6. Regeneration and conversion are synonymous
terms, descriptive of an act in which the Holy Spirit and the human will
co-operate. Truth, however, is in all cases the instrument through which
conversion is secured by the Spirit;

7. The condition into which men are brought by
regeneration is either that of continued holiness, increasing in volume; or of
states alternating from entire holiness to entire sinfulness, the former state
predominating at last. The final perseverance of all who are once truly
converted is a revealed truth which the reason cannot contradict;

8. The doctrine of election is our only
assurance that the salvation of any will be secured. There is a divine plan of
salvation whose means and ends were chosen from eternity, and which is now
unfolding before us;

9. In this plan Christ is the central figure;
a being who is both God and man, and whose humiliation and sufferings are a
governmental substitute for the punishment of those who are sanctified through
faith. The atonement satisfies the demands of general justice, and its
provisions are freely offered to all men.

Such, in brief, is the system. With two or
three exceptions, the statements as here given are accepted by New School
Calvinists. The controverted points have reference to the ground of
obligation, the simplicity of moral action, and the process of sanctification.

So far, however, as relates to the nature of
holiness, Finney's system is the first cousin, if not the grandchild, of that
of President Edwards; and the student who accepts the system will find himself
very well satisfied with Dr. Samuel Hopkins's development of the Edwardean
theory of virtue in his "Inquiry into the Nature of True Holiness."

To avoid the charge sometimes made against
this theory, that it substitutes abstract for concrete objects of love, or, as
Dr. Hodge states it, puts "the universe in the place of God, as that to
which our allegiance is due," Finney was very particular to use a formula
in which God was expressly recognized. In designating the objects of love, he
was scrupulously careful to say, "God and the universe," and he
everywhere emphasized, as much as Edwards did, the thought that "all
other beings, even the whole universe, are as nothing in comparison with the
Divine Being."

Careful analysis and prolonged study will show
that the view of benevolence which Finney defended with such skill, and
preached with such power, is adapted in an unparalleled degree for maintaining
just views of both the goodness and the severity of God. By regarding
"benevolence," or "good-willing," as the generic virtue
under which all minor virtues range themselves as species, the theologian and
philosopher is raised to a point of view from which the reason, if it cannot
indeed and of itself prove the evangelical doctrines of Christianity,
at any rate can most easily approve them.

De Quincey has well remarked that Christianity
is the only religious system that provides any place for preaching, in the
true sense of that word. Dr. Albert Barnes narrows the field to still closer
limits, and shows that all great preachers have gone for their most effective
weapons to the armory in possession of the New School Calvinists of his day.
Finney's system preserves all the advantages of Arminianism in the pulpit, and
all the strength of Calvinism in the closet, and so has been one of the most
efficient means looking to that doctrinal agreement now so rapidly approaching
between the great religious denominations of this country.

Probably Finney has succeeded better than any
other author in elaborating a system of theology which combines and harmonizes
the truths of these contending parties. He has done this in part, in a
negative way, by not philosophizing overmuch. For, as he maintained, it is not
the New School Calvinists who deform the evangelical system by their excess of
philosophy, but, rather, it is the Old School Calvinists who distort the
system by burdening it with their inflexible theories of an "imputed
guilt which is not actual guilt," and with a theory of obligation which
is dis-severed from ability. It was, he contended, the Old School tbeologians
who were entering too deeply into the philosophy of regeneration, and
attempting to prove a universal negative by asserting that regeneration is an
act of the Spirit which is not moral and persuasive. It was they who undertook
such impossibilities as trying to prove that in regeneration the Spirit
produces a change "in the immanent disposition, principles, tastes, or
habits which underlie all conscious exercises."

Finney's theory of virtue, especially his
statement of the simplicity of moral action, is sometimes set down as
rationalism, and his doctrine of sanctification as mysticism. But his theory
that each act of the will is either wholly right or wholly wrong gives him
this advantage, that he can interpret in an absolute manner, and regard as
reasonable, the command to "love God with all our heart," while at
the same time the ground of hope that we shall attain actual stability and
constancy in holy exercises of the heart is left open for discussion on
independent principles. The doctrine of sanctification is no more mystical
than is the doctrine of the perseverance of saints. The questions concerning
the assurance we may have of a state of entire (i. e. continuous)
sanctification in this life, and, if attainable, concerning the methods by
which it may be obtained, fall into the same category with those having
reference to the perseverance of saints and their security in the heavenly
state. His exhortation with regard to sanctification is really nothing more
than this: Give perfect obedience now to the will of God; fill your minds to
their utmost capacity with the persuasive knowledge of Christ; open your
hearts in the fullest manner to the present work of the Holy Spirit, -
and you may then rationally hope to be kept for the future; but your duty is
always with the present. Finney did not encourage expectation of a definite
experience of sanctification like that taking place in conversion.

The pages which Finney devoted in his
"Systematic Theology" to the offices of Christ in securing our
sanctification will always be classic, and, wherever they are known, will be
valued most highly by the most devout members of the Christian church. No one
could be more anxious than he to exalt Christ and his work. If it is
rationalism to use words in such a manner that they are self-consistent, and
to propound a philosophy which neither does violence to the reason nor robs
Christ of his glory, the charge of being a rationalist ought not to be
considered objectionable. But it is essential to emphasize, as Finney's system
does, the pre-eminence of Christ, for there is no magical power in the
formulas of his system either to determine practical duty for us or to
determine us to duty. The "good of being," considered as a general
conception which we are to choose, is so diffused, so vast, and so far off,
that the choice of it does not of itself aid us much in threading our way
through the perplexities of practical life. The navigator needs a chart of the
ocean as well as a look at the North star to guide his course through the
shoals and into the harbor. After Finney's pupil has accepted the highest
well-being of God and the universe as his ethical polar star, he will still
have to fall back on all the old-time helps of laws, customs, traditions,
tendencies of mind, and revelation, in order to determine what things to do in
service of that end, and what things to leave undone.

In no sense does Finney regard the Edwardean
theory of virtue as a substitute for the gospel. It is only an unfolding of
the words of Christ when he said that all the law and the prophets hung on the
two commandments bidding us to love God with all the heart, and to love our
neighbors as we love ourselves. Under this divinely enunciated law, the gospel
ranges itself as the clearest of all revelations of subordinate duties, and
the most persuasive of all incentives to virtuous action, while at the same
time it presents the most perfect vindication of God's claim to the possession
of both love and holiness, even when exercising the apparently antagonistic
qualities of justice and mercy.

Finney's system is invaluable in the following
respects: it leaves no excuse for sin; it emphasizes present responsibility;
it exalts the atonement of Christ; and it magnifies the work of the Holy
Spirit. It must be judged as a whole. Of the many advantages of its
comprehensive theory of virtue, not the least is, that it affords a ready
solution to the increasingly difficult problems which scientific discussions
are forcing upon the Christian public with reference to the doctrine of final
causes. In the light of scientific progress, it is becoming more and more
hazardous to attempt to say for what ultimate ends particular contrivances in
nature were designed. Indeed, the scheme of nature has so grown upon the
vision of modern scientific inquirers that they can no longer find any unity
in final causes which is not as far off and made up of as many particulars as
the last end in Finney's theory of virtuous choice, viz., the "highest
good of being."

With God, to choose is to perform. He chooses
this highest good of being as the rule of his action, and everything in heaven
and on earth and under the earth is designed for the promotion of it. Man with
his limited powers cannot fathom this wisdom, but must rest content with such
provisional interpretation as may serve his immediate necessities. For
practical knowledge of God's subordinate designs, man has to pray for a daily
supply of wisdom, and to go forth every day in the week to gather the manna
which God sends down from heaven.

But the ultimate and real end for which
anything is created is the sum of all the uses to which it is ever put. This
principle, which in its sphere is coincident with Finney's definition of
virtue, is destined to play an increasingly important part in our attempt to
adjust natural theology to scientific theories of nature. Only as one learns
to state correctly the true theory of virtue can he state correctly the
doctrine of design in nature.

2. This is a phrase
of the younger Edwards, which Finney doubtless adopted from later reading and
reflection, and unconsciously interjected in the account of his early
experiences. It is pretty certain that he had not then read Edwards, and it is
extremely improbable that he independently coined the phrase.

3. Memoirs, p. 50.

4. See letter of
Finney to the president of the society, dated Antwerp, June 10, 1824, first
published in the Western Recorder, and reprinted in the Religious
Intelligencer, for July, 1824 (New Haven, Conn.).

5. Memoirs, pp. 193,
194.

6. Quoted in Historical
Sketch of Presbyterianism within theBounds of the Synod of Central New
York. Prepared and published, at the request of the Synod, by P. H.
Fowler, D.D. Utica, N.Y.: Curtiss & Childs. 1877. Page 262.

7. The Life and
Work of John Williamson Nevin, D.D., LL.D. By Theodore Appel, D.D.
Philadelphia: Reformed Church Publication House. 1889. Page 168.

10. A Brief
Account of the Origin and Progress of the Divisionsin the First
Presbyterian Church in the City of Troy. Containing also Strictures upon
the New Doctrines broached by the Rev. C. G. Finney and N. S. S. Beman, with a
Summary of the Trial of the Latter before the Troy Presbytery. By a Member of
the Church and Congregation. Troy, 1827. Pp. 19, 33.

11. Sermon
preached in the Presbyterian Church at Troy, March 4, 1827, by Rev. C. G.
Finney, from Amos iii. 3, "Can two walk together except they be
agreed?" Philadelphia: William F. Geddes. 1827.

12. Memoir of the
Life and Character of Rev. Asahel Nettleton. By Bennett Tyler, D.D.
Boston: Congregational Board of Publication. 1856. Pp. 252, 253.

13. March, 1829, p.
105.

14. Christian
Examiner, March, 1829, pp. 119, 120.

15. Beecher's Autobiography,
vol. ii. p. 100.

16. Christian
Examiner, March, 1829, p. 115.

17. Finney, in his Memoirs,
p. 223, says he has no recollection of signing such a paper, but his signature
is unquestionably upon it.

106. On the
authority of Deacon Samuel Pitts. See The Last Sabbath in the Broadway
Tabernacle, New York, 1857, pp. 14-17.

107. Oberlin
News, August 20, 1874.

108. "At the
breaking out of the Rebellion, the influences so long predominant at Oberlin
had their full effect. One hundred of the one hundred and sixty-six young men
in the college classes enlisted. Besides these, ninety-seven of the alumni are
known to have done so, and about five hundred others who had been students.
Among these, two rose to be major-generals, one brigadier-general, and two
colonels. The first officers for the colored troops were largely drawn from
Oberlin students. One hundred of those who enlisted lost their lives on the
battle-field and in hospital." - Address by Prof. John M. Ellis on
"Oberlin and the American Conflict," August 23, 1865.

109. The Oberlin
Jubilee, pp. 285-289.

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